


The Second Season

by flitterflutterfly



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Child Abuse, Child Death, Different Season 2, F/M, M/M, Slender Man - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-28 21:18:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 31,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/678990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flitterflutterfly/pseuds/flitterflutterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look at what season two could have been, written before the second season came out.</p><p>Where Derek begins to create a proper pack, Stiles helps everyone, Jackson and Lydia grow fangs, the newest Argent seeks retribution on the slandering of his daughter’s name, and Scott gets competition for Allison’s love. Meanwhile, children begin to go missing in and around Beacon Hill and things get complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Episode One - Omega

**Author's Note:**

> When I wrote this story, the cast had said there would be three new characters: Gerard Argent, Matt, and Isaac. They didn’t mention Erica, at least not as anything more than vague rumors, and they definitely didn’t mention Boyd.
> 
> The character I made Matt in this story is pretty much nothing like the actual Matt, but Isaac is ironically close to pre-bite Isaac. Also, Gerard is like Gerard, but a little less crazy. So… yeah. Lydia isn’t immune in my story cause I had no idea she would be and there’s no kanima!Jackson, just regular werewolf!Jackson. What I’m saying is that this story is totally AU, but you might enjoy it anyway.
> 
> Thanks to Alma Heart for betaing and Uchihagirl5 and Rumpledlinen for the cheerleading.
> 
> Dwg did art, which is spread throughout, but you can see her art masterpost [here](http://dwg.livejournal.com/1283615.html)! You can also download the playlist [here](http://anonym.to/?http://scarimonious.chaotic-creative.com/fanmixes/Disappear.zip).

“Stiles!”

Stiles turned, giving Scott a small smile as his friend caught up with him. “Yo, Scott.”

A year ago, Scott would have been out of breath, possibly even wheezing when he stopped next to Stiles. Now, he barely looked as if he’d just sprinted from the locker room to catch up with his friend.

It was pretty hard to compare the former asthmatic to the lacrosse co-captain that was Stiles’ friend today.

“I hear they named Kate as the murderer of the people the Alpha killed,” Scott said, lowering his voice to continue the conversation interrupted earlier by the arrival of the coach.

Stiles nodded. “Yeah, Dad said something like that. They still suspect Derek for her death, considering the revenge factor from the fire.” He paused and glanced sideways. “And because we supposedly saw him at the school that night.”

Scott had the grace to look a bit ashamed for that. “But why would she, I mean, why do they think she killed all of them?”

“They think she killed all the other people who helped her set the fire so they wouldn’t be able to link it back to her.” Stiles shrugged. “Not a bad theory, I guess. They say she tried to make it look like a wild animal killed everyone, or something.”

“The Argents must be furious,” Scott said.

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded. “But Allison believes you, right, that Kate set the fire?”

“She does,” Scott frowned. “I don’t know, I think it’s all hitting her hard. She really liked her aunt, you know.”

“Look at you, Scott, being all considerate,” Stiles rolled his eyes.

Scott blushed. “Yeah, about that. Stiles, I wanted to apologize,” he paused, “I haven’t really been myself since this whole thing started. I know I’ve been a crappy friend-”

“Yeah, you have,” Stiles agreed.

Scott gave him the look of a kicked puppy and Stiles sighed. “You’re still my best bud, Scott. But, man, you’ve got to remember, bros before hos.”

Rage flashed briefly over Scott’s face, turning his eyes gold. “Don’t called Allison a-”

“Chill,” Stiles said. “It’s a saying, Scott. I don’t actually think she’s-,” he breathed out. “You know I actually like her, even when she’s trying to kill us with her mad archery skills.”

“She’s pretty awesome, isn’t she?” Scott smirked.

“Oh, get over yourself and go,” Stiles said. “What with the whispers going around, I think she probably really needs her boyfriend right now.”

“What are you going to do?” Scott frowned.

Stiles looked away. “Check on Lydia,” he murmured. “See if she’s gotten better yet.”

“Did something go wrong, do you think?” Scott asked. “With the transformation?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles hitched his bag up higher on his shoulder and grabbed his keys. “I really don’t know.”

-<-o->-

Danny ran a hand through his hair, grimacing as it came back wet. He apparently hadn’t toweled it dry enough. Sighing, Danny waved Jackson to go without him. His best friend nodded, distracted. Danny knew he would probably be visiting Lydia in the hospital again.

Poor girl, he thought to himself. He still didn’t know exactly what had happened to her, only that both his best friend, Jackson, and his weird lab partner, Stiles, were distraught about it.

The door shut and the locker room became silent. Danny frowned, a sudden chill working its way through him as he headed back towards the showers where the towels would be.

_Tap._

Danny froze, heartbeat rising. The noise echoed again, spiraling up from the showers towards where Danny stood.

“Grow up, Dan,” Danny murmured to himself. What the hell was he so scared of? Yeah, sure it wasn’t too long ago -a mere week- since the murders that had the whole town in panic. But the murderer was gone, apparently.

Shaking himself, Danny moved around the corner, grabbing for a towel on the rack.

A clatter of sounds reached him and he spun, concerned. A figure danced on the edge of his vision. It morphed, black and grey as it stretched upwards.

“Danny?”

Danny blinked, the figure he had seen showing itself to be just another lacrosse player, looking at him in concern. “Isaac?”

“Are you okay?” Isaac asked, his curly mop of hair slicked down wet against his head. He seemed in the midst of tugging on a shirt.

Danny’s eyes traced, almost without his consent, the stretch of pale skin that was still visible. The darkness that he had seen earlier was in reality a purple bruise against the bottom of Isaac’s ribs, disappearing beneath his shirt.

Isaac pushed his shirt down, light blue eyes now like ice.

“Did you get that from practice?” Danny asked after a moment.

There was a pause. “Yeah,” Isaac said. “Nasty tackle.”

Except Danny knew that Isaac hadn’t been tackled at all that day, or the days previous. The shy team member was often too sneaky to actually be hit; he dodged around players and sought openings like no one else, almost invisible to both opponents and allies alike.

“Hope that heals,” Danny said, dropping his towel back on the ground with the rest of the dirty laundry the new janitor would clean up.

“Thanks,” Isaac murmured.

Danny nodded, but as he left he vowed to keep a closer eye on the kid. There had always been something aloof about Isaac, but whatever it was that caused a bruise that dark, Danny had a feeling it was important.

Besides, Isaac wasn’t too bad on the eyes. It certainly wouldn’t be a hardship to keep watch on him.

-<-o->-

“Argent,” Allison turned, but the girl who’d said her surname wasn’t even looking at her. “Kate Argent, do you think she’s related to Allison?”

Allison closed her mouth firmly and resisted the urge to say anything. She continued walking down the hallway, stoutly ignoring the stares and the whispers.

Her last name was everywhere.

Didn’t people know it was rude to talk of the deceased?

Allison ducked her head, books clutched protectively against her chest until she realized what she was doing and straightened again. No need to give the rumors any more fodder.

All of the sudden, she was hit from behind. Allison stumbled forward and then spun, mouth open and ready to lay into whomever had escalated this to physical violence.

Blue eyes held behind curly hair met Allison’s and a blush spread over the boy’s face. “Sorry, sorry,” he said. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“It’s fine,” Allison told him, a bit off balance still.

“Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you did I?” the teen raised his hands and then dropped them again, one coming to curl around the camera hanging off his wrist.

Allison shook her head. “It’d take more than a little bump to hurt me,” she said, thinking of the compact bow in the back of her car and the last time she’d had to use it. The images faded as the teen held out his hand.

“I’m Matt,” he said.

“Allison,” she returned the handshake, facing turning a bit red as he squeezed her palm.

“Allison!”

She turned and caught sight of Scott waving at the end of the hall. That dork, she thought fondly. “Sorry, I have to go, my boyfriend,” she gestured.

“Oh, right,” Matt stepped back, smile a little different now. “Maybe I’ll- we’ll see each other again?”

“Sure,” Allison nodded.

Matt faded back into the crowd and Allison made her way over to her boyfriend. He snagged her hand and she couldn’t help but notice how much warmer his palm was than Matt’s.

Werewolf, her mind whispered. She pushed that aside.

“Hey, you wanna study tonight?” Scott asked. “Or hang out?”

Allison took in a deep breath. “I can’t, my grandpa’s visiting.”

“Oh,” Scott blinked. “I see.”

Feeling… something, Allison tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear. “Maybe we can go out later? Friday?”

“How about Thursday?” Scott offered with that dorky grin of his.

Allison’s heart fluttered briefly. “Thursday,” she agreed.

Scott smiled and kissed her softly. “Awesome.”

Later, as Allison made her way back to her car, the whispers seemed even worse than before. For a moment, she wondered if she was just imagining things, but then she caught sight of the note on her windshield.

 _Roses are red and violets are blue,_ it read.  _Argent means silver, what does death mean to you?_

Frowning, Allison crumpled up the note and pocketed it.

-<-o->-

“Is Jackson coming?” Lydia asked softly.

“I don’t know,” Stiles said. “Probably.”

Lydia nodded and then yawned. “They gave me quite a lot of painkillers…”

“Sleep,” Stiles told her.

He continued to sit by her side, wondering for a moment if a five minute conversation was better than none. But of course it was. Anything was better than days of silence, of sitting on that cold hospital chair wondering if somehow he’d been a little faster, a little braver than maybe Peter wouldn’t have been able to get to her.

Stiles closed his eyes and stood, slowly walking closer and lifting up the blankets and then the gauze pad to look at her side. The bite still hadn’t healed. The doctors were worried about it being infected, but Stiles doubted they could do anything about it.

“What are you doing?”

Stiles turned and saw Jackson standing in the doorway. Stiles looked at Lydia’s sleeping face and weighed the probability of her waking up. “Outside,” he said.

Jackson sucked in an offended breath, but Stiles was already pushing past him, taking the elevator down to the parking garage level of the hospital. He didn’t look to see if Jackson was following him until he was there and once he did, the other teen was no where in sight.

Reaching into his pocket for his keys, Stiles looked up and yelled as he saw Jackson standing right in front of him. “Damn, man, don’t do that!”

“Relax, Stilinski,” Jackson scowled.

Stiles bit his bottom lip. “So I’m guessing by now you’ve had some time to let the whole werewolf thing sink in.”

Jackson’s lips twitched up and it look so much like a Derek expression for a second that Stiles paused. “Yeah,” he said.

“Lydia was bitten,” Stiles said in a rush. “Which means she should have turned.”

“You mean, she’s,” Jackson frowned. “But she didn’t-”

“That’s the thing,” Stiles waved a hand. “Her bite hasn’t healed yet, which mean she hasn’t turned. Something went wrong.”

“What?” Jackson asked.

“I don’t know,” Stiles rubbed his head, frustrated. “It could be anything from the fact that she’s a girl and therefore it’s  _different_  with her, or maybe because Peter… uh, the Alpha died, or maybe she has some supernatural blood somewhere in her history that blocks the venom, or it could even be-”

“Stiles,” Jackson cut him off. “What can we do?”

Stiles blew out some air. “We? I’m sorry Jackson, man, but I don’t think  _you_  can do anything, since I’m the one always doing the research which frankly is misuse of my powers, not that I have any powers, not like Scott and his freaking were-”

“Stiles, what can I do?” Jackson growled low, feral even.

Stiles froze. He blinked and looked at Jackson’s eyes. “Goddammit.”

Jackson turned away and brought a clawed hand up. He growled again.

“Goddammit,” Stiles repeated. “Who bit you? Derek? It was Derek wasn’t it?”

Jackson’s looked back to him, eyes golden like Scott’s and just as crazed. Stiles wondered if that had to do with the newness of being bitten.

“That fucking alpha bastard!” Stiles threw his hands up in the air. “He can’t just-”

The side of his jeep slammed against Stiles’ back and his mouth snapped shut. Jackson was as fully wolfed out as a new beta could be, his eyes glowing bright, his claws fisted in Stiles’ shirt.

After a moment when nothing happened, Stiles opened his mouth again. “Jackson?”

Jackson growled low, taking a deep sniff. A second later, he stepped back and slowly turned human again.

“You want to explain that?” Stiles asked, heart still beating too fast, but after being sort of kidnapped by Peter he’d actually gotten a lot less scared of werewolves. How that had worked, he didn’t know, but Peter was dead and Scott was learning some amount of control now.

And Jackson was apparently a werewolf too.

“I don’t,” Jackson ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, it was like you insulting Derek…”

“He’s your alpha,” Stiles said, realizing his mistake. “Your wolf-side is probably obligated to defend him, or something like that. That’s actually pretty cool. Hey I wonder if that means that Scott’s transferred his wolf’s allegiances when he killed Peter, which would only be a good thing-”

“It’s not just that,” Jackson said slowly, almost hesitant. “I also couldn’t attack you. I wanted to rip your throat out and I just… couldn’t.”

“Well that’s comforting,” Stiles frowned. “I wonder if it has something to do with pseudo-pack behavior…”

“What?” Jackson blinked.

“I don’t know,” Stiles grabbed his keys. “I need to go talk to Derek.”

“Wh- wait! Stilinski, Stiles,” Jackson grabbed him by the arm. “You don’t need to do anything. He might attack you!”

“Like he did you?” Stiles turned knowing eyes on the other teen. He had no doubt that Jackson had asked for the bite, and no doubt that Jackson hadn’t expected it when it happened. “Don’t worry about me, Jackson, I’ve been in Derek’s company more than once.”

Jackson let him go quickly. “I wasn’t worried.”

“Yeah,” Stiles shook his head. “Go back to Lydia, she was asking for you earlier.”

“She was?” Jackson was already turning, a mix of anxious and fond.

Stiles felt a bitter smile come on and he started his car quickly.

-<-o->-

“Derek!” Stiles called through the front door of the house. “Derek!” He stepped into the entrance hall and called out again.

“What?”

Stiles turned and found himself face-to-chest with Derek. He looked up into frowning eyes and stepped back. “Werewolves,” he muttered in annoyance. “Can’t even announce yourselves before you appear behind someone.”

“Stiles?” Derek asked, a growl on the edge of his tone. “What are you doing in my house?”

“House, right,” Stiles looked around. “You know you should really think about moving, or at least fixing this place up a little… I mean don’t get me wrong I’m sure it was quite nice before-”

“I have an apartment in town,” Derek cut him off.

“Really?” Stiles blinked. “But you, you’re always here.”

“It’s a good place to train,” Derek shrugged. “Isolated, nice hunting around.”

“Okay, not going there,” Stiles said. “But actually that’s why I’m here.”

“For the hunting?” Derek raised an eyebrow.

“No, training,” Stiles crossed his arms. “And so you can explain yourself.”

“I don’t need to explain myself to you,” Derek said, wandering away towards the living room. Stiles couldn’t help but look to the spot where Kate had been killed, but all the blood stains were gone now. Police cleanup, standard procedure.

“Yes, you do,” Stiles argued. “You bit Jackson.”

Derek said nothing, instead he sat on the torn-up couch, one arm slung over the back. Stiles remained standing, needing all the strategic help he could get for a confrontation with the new alpha.

“You want a pack,” Stiles told him. “Don’t you? You bit Jackson, and Scott’s in need of an alpha. Even Lydia-”

Derek looked up at him. “Lydia?”

Stiles turned his head away, knowing Derek had been told about her already. “What’s wrong with her? Do you know?”

Derek was silent so long that Stiles thought he wouldn’t answer, and then he sighed. “When a bite takes, it relies on the connection between the bitten and the were.”

“So you’re saying that because your uncle died…” Stiles gulped, because he hadn’t wanted it to be this theory. “So the transformation was halted?”

“Yes,” Derek frowned. “To be honest, I don’t know what that will do to her.”

“Can you override it?” Stiles asked. “Bite her, become her alpha?”

“I could,” Derek nodded. “But I won’t.”

“Why not?” Stiles asked immediately, just a bit angry at the immediate rejection.

“I won’t bite someone against their will,” Derek said. “I’m not…”

“You’re not Peter,” Stiles bit the inside of his cheek. “Then ask her. Explain to her what’s going on. Offer it to her. She’s smart, I bet she’ll say yes.”

“You’re asking me to take on a pack of new weres, you realize that. None of them, not even your friend Scott, has or will have any real control,” Derek said. “Not for some time.”

“Then help them,” Stiles said. “Be their alpha, show them what to do. They didn’t ask for this, even Jackson didn’t know what he was getting into.”

“Why?” Derek stood. “Why should I help them?”

“Because you need a pack!” Stiles clenched his fists. “God, Derek, you are the most knowledgeable among us. You grew up this way! You can’t keep this information to yourself.”

Derek growled. “Don’t presume-”

“No,” Stiles said. “You’re the alpha now, Derek! It’s your duty, your responsibility to protect the pack, yes, but also to inform them. To train them. You can’t be everywhere at once, and one day Jackson or Scott or even Lydia are going to lose control because you didn’t explain all that it means to be a werewolf and they’re going to hurt someone!”

Derek sat back down heavily. “Stiles…”

Stiles huffed. “They’re your pack. And you want that, I know you do. Lone wolves don’t actually exist, not really. Not healthily.”

“You are too,” Derek said after a moment. “If you want to make this point, then you are part of my pack as well, Stiles. Do you really want that?”

“What?” Stiles blinked. “But I’m human.”

“There were humans in-” Derek cut himself off, looking down at his hands.

“In your old pack, your family,” Stiles finished for him. “Um, about that, Derek.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. Stiles winced and went on. “Your sister, I was thinking about her.” Derek growled low, but didn’t stop him. “She, when we dug her up,” Stiles flushed, “she was a wolf.”

“Wolfsbane makes us transform, we can’t stop ourselves easily. It kept her body in the most natural state, her wolf form,” Derek explained, a bit haltingly but an explanation none-the-less nonetheless.

Stiles could barely believe that the alpha was opening up to him, but he didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, not yet. “You mean, she could transform all the way into a wolf? Is that something females, I mean will Lydia do that?”

“Yes,” Derek frowned. “All weres can.”

“Wait, really?” Stiles blinked. “Even Scott? So, it’s not only for natural-born and females?” he added quickly.

“It requires training, concentration, and a lot more control, but yes, Stiles, all werewolves can.” Derek sighed. “All weres can find the power to transform into all forms. Including the one that my uncle-”

“You’re kidding me!” Stiles gaped. “That monstrous- that’s not just an alpha thing?”

“No,” Derek shook his head. “The status of alpha is not based on form, it is that of pack bond and authority. That’s why I couldn’t let Scott kill Peter, I couldn’t risk that the cure was false and that he would become alpha. It would have killed him, he didn’t have the control for that sudden switch.”

“Like, actually kill him?” Stiles whispered.

“Yes, Stiles,” Derek sighed. “Or more accurately, it would have ruined his mind. Killed his psyche. Even I had trouble controlling myself the week after.”

“Which is why you bit Jackson,” Stiles nodded.

“That, and he asked,” Derek said. “You’re right, I, or at least my wolf, wanted a pack.”

“Then you’ll have one, if you work with me,” Stiles said. “I know them. You may be young, but it’s been, what, six years since you’ve been our age?”

Derek looked at him slowly. “Do you even know where you would be in the hierarchy of this pack you want me to create?”

Stiles shook his head. He figured he would be the bottom of the rung, but he really had no idea how true werewolf packs worked.

“You’re the only human, and you are not the mate of anyone,” Derek sighed. “You would hold no sway as the omega, and yet you do.”

“What are you saying?” Stiles frowned, confused at Derek’s jump of logic.

Derek waved his hand as if to indicate Stiles should come forward. He narrowed his eyes, but did, swallowing a curse as Derek snagged his wrist and pulled him over next to him, crowding him against the couch. “I don’t understand it,” Derek murmured. His nose twitched, inhaling deeply. “My wolf doesn’t see you as omega, why?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles watched Derek warily. Still, there was a part of him wanted to roll over, to show his neck and let Derek bite him. “What are you doing?”

“You can feel that?” Derek blinked and pulled back and suddenly the phantom compulsion was gone.

“Wh-what,” Stiles swallowed. “Derek?”

“I need to do some thinking,” Derek got out of his space abruptly. “I don’t know if I want a true pack, Stiles, but I’m not saying no. Come by Friday night and make your argument again. Maybe I’ll consider it.”

-<-o->-

“Is he here?” Allison asked the minute she stepped through the door.

Her mom smiled. “In the living room.”

Allison dropped her bag and practically sprinted. “Grandpa!” she said as her grandfather came into view.

“Allison,” Gerard Argent caught her hug and swung her around off her feet. She didn’t know how many kids could attest to having a grandfather who was stronger than their dad, but Gerard had been a hunter since he was a kid.

Hunter.

Allison took a deep breath and pushed the thought away. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she murmured into his neck.

“I know baby, I know,” Gerard rubbed her back. Over her head, he exchanged a significant look with Chris.

That, Allison ignored. She stepped back and the paper in her pocket came loose, falling to the floor.

“What’s this?” Gerard asked as he looked down at the crumpled note. He bent down and picked it up, unfolding it.

“Just a prank, I think,” Allison said, flustered.

Gerard read it quickly and then passed it to her father. Chris sighed and threw it in the fire. “Honey.”

“It’s fine,” Allison told them. “It’s not… I still have friends at school. It’s not like they’ve all abandoned me.”

“Friends?” Gerard sat on the couch and motioned for Allison to join him. She did. “That were-boy, Scott?”

Allison stiffened. “My boyfriend,” she said, meeting her father’s gaze and then her grandfather’s.

“Allison,” Chris began.

“I have homework to do, excuse me,” Allison stood and went to retrieve her bag. She heard her grandfather sigh.

“Dinner’s in an hour,” her mother called.

“Okay,” Allison said. She escaped to her room. Outside the moon was a sliver of silver in the sky.

She closed her window firmly and took out her books.

-<-o->-

“Knock knock.”

Scott glared at his computer screen before moving his gaze to where his mom stood at his open door. “I’m busy, Mom.”

“Busy?” Melissa walked in.

Scott sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Waiting for Stiles to get on,” he admitted.

“Oh, I see,” she sat down on the bed. “Not… Allison?”

“No,” Scott frowned, wondering at the weird smell in the air. It was almost, sharp. “Her grandfather is visiting, she’s  _busy_.”

Melissa nodded slowly and looked at her hands. “Oh,” she bit her bottom lip. “So then, you two got back together?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Scott said. “Mom?”

A pause and then, “you and Peter didn’t really get along, did you?”

Scott stiffened before he could stop himself. Luckily, his mom took it the wrong way. “I thought so,” she said and then smiled too brightly. “Well don’t worry, I doubt he’ll be around anymore.”

No, he’s dead, Scott thought. “Did he, did you-” he licked his lips and thought better of his question. “Sorry, Mom.”

Melissa stood. “I just wanted you to know, I guess, in case you-”

Scott reached her quicker than perhaps he should have and pulled her into a hug. “I love you, Mom, more than that bastard ever would have,” he whispered against her hair.

“You don’t want,” she hesitantly returned the hug, “I thought you might want a dad.”

Her voice was too broken, wavering to the werewolf’s sensitive ears. “No, Mom, no. Not unless he’s someone you truly want.” He pulled back. “Besides, Stiles’ dad is enough for both of us.”

Melissa stared and then she laughed. “You might be right, kid.”

Scott ducked away from her hand coming to ruffle his hair and wrinkled his nose. “Goodnight, Mom,” he said pointedly.

Melissa took the hint and left with an amused smile on her face and the scent of unshed tears still hanging in the air.

-<-o->-

It was late by the time Stiles got home. He pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine before grabbing his bag and jumping out, locking the jeep with a backwards click.

The front door was unlocked which meant his dad was still awake. “Dad?” Stiles called as he closed it and pushed the deadbolt locked.

“In here, Stiles,” his dad said.

Stiles wandered towards the kitchen and saw his dad surrounded by papers on the table. “Another case?”

“Yeah,” Sheriff Stilinksi nodded. He looked up as Stiles curiously came closer. “What are you doing home so late, son?”

“I was visiting Lydia,” Stiles said, giving half an explanation. He always felt bad lying to his dad.

“Ah,” the sheriff nodded and returned back to his paperwork. The most prominent picture was of a young girl with curly hair and a bright smile. Stiles frowned at it.

“Who’s that?” he asked.

“Angelica Reaves,” his dad said after a moment. “Have you seen her, Stiles?”

“No…” Stiles shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Tell me if you do,” the sheriff told him.

“She’s missing?” Stiles sat down heavily. Children might go missing all the time, but Beacon Hills wasn’t the largest of cities and he thought it’d be all over the news by now. Frankly, with all that had happened with Peter, he’d kind of forgotten of the awful crimes regular humans could commit.

“She’s the third this month,” his dad confessed after a moment. “We thought it was random coincidence with the first two; they didn’t even go to the same elementary school. And with the murders that were happening…”

“It’s not your fault,” Stiles said immediately. “You couldn’t have known.”

Sheriff Stilinksi rubbed the back of his head much in the same way Stiles often did. “Tell that to her parents.”

“Dad,” Stiles took in a deep breath and then changed his mind. “Speaking of the murders, um, Derek Hale?”

“What about him?” his dad asked, still distracted. Stiles didn’t like the bags under his eyes and he hoped that whatever was happening to these children was discovered soon.

“Is he… still…” Stiles sighed. “Is he a suspect still?”

The sheriff looked up. “No,” he said after a moment. “I closed that case. Why, Stiles, is there something you want to tell me?”

“I just,” Stiles sighed. “You know how Scott said he was at the school that night we were locked in? I don’t… he told me later that he might have just imagined that. He was scared, you know, we all were and we found Laura’s body at Derek’s house even though he had a right to bury his own sister and well… Scott didn’t want to tell you cause he thought you’d arrest him even though I said you wouldn’t-”

“Stiles,” his dad put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. I understand. I already told Derek that he was off all charges so long as he keeps his record clean. He’s gotten a job at one of the local gyms as a trainer.”

“He has?” Stiles blinked. “What gym?”

His dad frowned. “Now, just because he’s not a confirmed murderer doesn’t mean I want you to go seeking him out. He’s had a very traumatic time of things and-”

“Well, exactly, Dad,” Stiles argued. “Don’t you think he might need a friend?”

“He can make friends fine with the others at the gym,” his dad told him. “Now off to bed with you, you’ve still got school tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Stiles stood. “Don’t stay up too late, Dad.”

“Who’s the parent here, now?” the sheriff raised an eyebrow.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” Stiles grinned and headed upstairs.

Stiles got ready for bed, thinking of getting on chat with Scott and then changing his mind as he looked at the time. He got under the covers and pulled them up to his chin, curling up on his side.

He fell asleep thinking of Derek at the gym, wolfing out in front of the other trainers. Suddenly the trainers became a pack and then they were running in the woods, laughing together.

When he dreamed that night, it was of warm fur against his skin as he slept.


	2. Episode Two - Digitalized

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So remember in the last episode of Season 1 where Mrs. Argent is like “We’re not going to let her take the fall for something she didn’t do” -> referring to Kate. Remember that look Chris has, like he’s not so sure Kate didn’t burn down the Hale house?

“Chris,” Gerard greeted as he stepped into the kitchen.

“Dad,” Chris nodded. “Coffee?”

“Please,” Gerard accepted the mug gratefully. “You always do make the good stuff.”

Chris chuckled. “Learned from the best, didn’t I?”

“Aye,” Gerard said. “Coffee making and werewolf hunting.”

Chris sobered, turning away from Gerard to dig through the fridge.

Gerard watched his son, taking in the rough lines on his hands and shadows on his face. “My daughter, your sister,” he took in a deep breath. “I do not want to think I raised someone capable of killing humans.”

“Capable?” Chris turned back and Gerard could tell that he was suddenly angry. “No, Dad, we are capable. We’re all capable. My daughter, the first time she won an archery tournament, was  _capable_ of killing another human.”

“Chris,” Gerard sighed. “I taught you morals, just as you taught Allison.”

“Yes,” Chris said, stiff-backed. “It’s right to kill a werewolf, or a vampire, or whatever other supernatural creature we come across, but it is not right to kill a human, regardless of whether or not that human has been murdering others.”

“Now, Chris,” Gerard amended, a bit stunned by his son’s venomous tone. “We leave those humans to the authorities, but the authorities have no experience hunting the abnormal.”

“No?” Chris snorted. “Some, maybe, others? Besides, by your rules it would have been right for me to shook a teenage boy in the head just because he was stupid enough to be walking in the woods at night and found himself bitten.”

“Now, if this is about Allison’s friend,” Gerard began.

“Scott, Jackson, Derek,” Chris shrugged. “They’re children, they’re Allison’s age and they were as much victims as the Hales who burned alive.”

“The Hale fire was an accident,” Gerard slammed his mug down. “You told me that yourself.”

“Yeah, well maybe I was naive,” Chris hissed. “Because when Peter Hale threatened Allison claiming Kate had orchestrated his family’s deaths, my sister didn’t look very surprised.”

Gerard paled. “Are you saying…?”

“I don’t know,” Chris sat down heavily. “I really don’t.”

-<-o->-

“Lydia,” Jackson whispered, touching her shoulder softly. He watched as she slowly stirred awake, sharp eyes going from him to the other person in her room.

Jackson glanced at Derek where he loomed over the other side of the bed.

“Jackson?” it was sometimes impressive how Lydia managed to make his name into both a question, and a demand. She maybe be down, injured and sleeping twenty hours a day, but Lydia never let any weakness show in front of strangers if she could help it.

By the quirk of Derek’s eyebrow, he caught that too.

“This is Derek,” Jackson said, though he thought Lydia probably already knew.

“The murderer from that night at the school,” Lydia stated skeptically.

“Not quite,” Jackson flushed, not looking at Derek, even thought it wasn’t  _him_  who had spread that rumor. “He’s my,” licking his lips nervously, Jackson forged on, “my alpha.”

Lydia froze and then looked at Derek. “Alpha?”

“Do you remember how you got here?” Derek asked softly, far softer than Jackson had ever heard him speak before.

Lydia’s eyes flickered. “Yeah,” she murmured. “I do.”

“That man,” Derek said. “Was my- was the previous alpha. I killed him and gained his status, but he did something to you before that.”

“He bit me,” Lydia said. “You’re saying that it would have turned me into… something like him?”

“A werewolf,” Jackson told her. “Like Derek, and Scott, and me.”

“Werewolf?” Lydia huffed. “You can’t expect me to believe-”

Derek was changing, eyes turning red and teeth growing into fangs. He reverted back to human even before fully going into the beta form, but the damage had been done. Lydia was pale against the sheets and Jackson reached out to hold her hand. She slapped it away.

“We’re not like him,” Jackson assured her. “Lydia, the old alpha wasn’t sane.”

“I would never hurt you,” Derek said. “I will never give someone the bite that doesn’t ask for it.”

“But I already have it,” Lydia remarked. “What is going to happen then?”

Derek sighed. “The bite never took, because Pet- the old alpha died. That’s why your wound hasn’t healed yet. It probably won’t ever heal fully, but you might be able to go on as a normal human now.”

“Might?” Lydia said. “And the other option.”

“I can bite you,” Derek said. “Complete the transformation. You’ll heal in a matter of hours, but you would have to learn to control yourself. It’s not an easy process, but in the end it is rewarding.”

“Okay,” Lydia said, nodding sharply. “I’ll take it.”

“If you want to think about it more-” Jackson was saying, and then Lydia’s decision caught up with him. “Okay? Just like that?”

Lydia smiled a secretive sort of a thing as she looked at both of them. “I’ve been dreaming about the forest, of running under the full moon. I don’t want to live my life as a sort of diseased human, caught between being a werewolf and not. So, okay, yes, bite me, let me learn to deal with it and live my life for real.”

“Like Jackson said, I can give you more time,” Derek was frowning.

“No,” Lydia frowned. “Listen to me. I’ve spent my entire life hiding from myself and what I wanted. What I was. I  _want_ this. If Scott can do it, so can I.”

“It’s not a competition,” Derek said.

Lydia sighed as if he was being stupid. “I know that. What I’m saying is that I’m done with the stupid act, okay. I’m done with the parties and the mindless groping and the drugs. I’m  _done_. I want to do something real, but I can’t do that if I don’t accept my life as it changes. Bite me.”

Jackson felt his head reel as he took in his girlfriend… ex-girlfriend’s words. He felt, proud, but also apprehensive as Derek gently grabbed her wrist and then, fangs cleared of his lips, bit down.

Lydia barely even flinched. The change was almost immediate as Derek let go, color returning to her cheeks.

Jackson wrapped her wrist with the bandages he’d brought just for this and then stepped back. “You won’t regret it,” he told her, because so far he hadn’t and even though it wasn’t all green grass, there was something about this change that felt right.

“I know,” Lydia smiled at him. “Visiting hours are over.”

Jackson took that for what it was and waved a half goodbye. Derek seemed to wait another second, sniffing the air, before he nodded and, too, left.

The next day, Lydia was released from the hospital and Jackson let himself feel profound relief, a weight he hadn’t even known he was carrying lifting from his shoulders.

-<-o->-

The shadows under Isaac’s eyes had grown, Danny noticed. That wasn’t too unusual in it of itself, they were in high school after all and staying up late to finish a project wasn’t something to call 911 about.

But when Isaac lifted his arm just, the vague imprint of dark bruises were just slightly visible behind the sleeve.

Fingerprints, Danny realized suddenly.

What to do? Danny thought. Isaac wasn’t some little kid potentially being abused. The bruises could be any number of things, and not even necessarily abusive. Parents, bullies, girlfriend, boyfriend, whatever. It could just be that Isaac really liked rough sex.

But Danny couldn’t help but think that there was something more to it, something beyond a potentially masochistic relationship.

“Hey, Danny.”

Danny blinked and turned to see Stiles leaning over in his direction. “What?” he asked his lab partner, just a bit crossly. He forced himself to look up at the board and not at the side of the room where Isaac was sitting.

“You have a new crush or something?” Stiles whispered.

Danny scowled, because no, it wasn’t a crush, it was just a touch of curiosity and healthy dose of worry. “It’s none of your business, Stilinski.”

Stiles frowned, and then turned back to his notes. If there was one thing Danny could say about his lab partner, it was that Stiles didn’t let his ADHD prevent him from working hard in school.

And he wasn’t as annoying as Danny had thought he would be, when they were first partnered together. A bit adorable, if Danny was being honest. Not that Stiles was his type, Danny usually went for the more manly men, like that cousin… what was his name, Miguel?

That had been a fine body. How he was related to Stiles, Danny still couldn’t figure out. Had to be through marriage.

Speaking of Stiles’ family… his dad was the sheriff wasn’t he?

Danny turned a contemplative eye from Stiles to Isaac. Maybe, just maybe, he could make this work.

-<-o->-

Chris watched out the window as his father taught his daughter the proper mechanics of gun safety in the backyard. He doubted that Allison would ever pick that up, not like Kate had- and he was cutting off that thought then and there because something hard pinged in him when he envisioned his dead sister and even now he wasn’t sure what it was.

But no, Allison had always been an archer and probably would remain so, just as Chris still preferred the capable twang of his crossbow, even if he used both gun and knife when it was necessary.

He thought he could imagine what his father was telling her. The lecture would be similar to the one he had gotten. And that Kate had gotten, years later when she’d been old enough.

There were so many different types of supernatural creatures out there in the world, Chris thought, but at least at Beacon Hill the only big problem seemed to be the resident werewolf pack.

Their family was known as the best werewolf hunters in the hunting business and it was because of that fact that Chris had gotten some other hunters to help him while he intimidated and pushed his weight around with Derek Hale. Now, they’d gone back to their own corners of California and only he and his family were left in the town-sized city. Supposedly, they would be enough to protect it.

Chris, his wife, his father, and now his daughter. He sighed as he saw Allison put down the gun and pick up her bow, shooting with deadly accuracy towards the practice targets.

He didn’t want to think she was old enough to learn this, not yet, but he knew that she was. Perhaps he’d waited too long, so that she’d found out the hard way with blood on her hands.

Chris wondered if Gerard would go through the finer points of the Code, or if that was something that he would have to sit down and talk about with her. He liked to think that Allison took after him in so many ways, that maybe she’d be more accepting of the rules that all hunters lived by, the rules that his sister hadn’t been and even sometimes his father wasn’t always fond of.

But that was a conversation for another evening. Now, Chris still had work to do settling Kate’s estate. He wished, briefly, that he could stay and watch the lovely young woman that his daughter had become.

With a sigh, Chris turned away from the window.

-<-o->-

Scott was at his house. Derek frowned, wondering at his flash of disappointment that it was the other were and not his human friend.

“If you’re not going to say something, leave,” Derek said. Scott had been there for ten minutes already, waiting for him, it seemed. He should have known that Derek was there, just next to him, but, then, Scott had very little training with his gift.

The beta growled softly, but Derek was alpha now and he couldn’t let that behavior stand. “Spit it out, now,” he ordered.

Scott turned away first, as he should. “Dr. Deaton,” he said finally.

“The vet?” Derek frowned as the memories came flashing to him. He felt guilt settle in the pit of his gut as he realized he’d never checked up on the man he’d wrongly accused of being the old alpha.

Of being the monster his uncle had been.

“I don’t think he still, well he’s probably already let it go, but,” Scott sighed. “I think it would make him feel better to, well…”

There was something else Scott wasn’t getting at. Derek could sense it in the weak bond they shared as weres bitten into the same pack family. The bond would strengthen, he knew, if he took on the pack properly, but he still wasn’t sure if he could do that, if he wanted to.

“Tell me, Scott,” Derek said, softer but still full of command.

Scott’s pose changed into something more accepting and Derek’s breath nearly caught at the sight of it. It was something he would do when his sister invoked her Alpha Law over him and the sight sent waves of both pain and longing through him.

“He knows about us,” Scott said finally. “I don’t know how and I don’t think he’ll tell anyone, but I thought you should know.”

Derek gave himself a second to collect his thoughts, then nodded. Then, because Scott was still looking at the floor and not at him, and because the beta had done well by telling him, he said, “Thank you. I’ll go talk to him. And before you can get worried, I plan to apologize.”

Scott looked up then, smiling. “Okay.” He paused suddenly. “I have to go, I have a date…”

“Then go,” Derek jerked his head.

Scott left quickly, but it left Derek thinking about how the beta had seemed to need the dismissal and he resisted the urge to growl at nothing.

Instead, Derek stepped outside and let the change takeover him. It was always a sort of adrenalin rush, even more so now that he’d become alpha level. Derek let himself savor the power for a moment, before his stronger back legs propelled him forward and he ran to the animal clinic, hoping the vet was still in.

By the lights coming from the clinic’s windows, he was.

Derek stopped in the empty parking lot outside and shifted back slowly. Once he was fully human, he walked purposefully forward, intent on knocking on the back door.

Something stopped him and it took Derek a moment to figure out what. “Mountain ash?” he asked as he heard a small clatter and then there the vet was standing just inside the now open door.

“Sometimes the classic remedies work the best,” Deaton said. “What can I do for you, Mr. Hale?”

Derek saw the weary look in the vet’s eyes and the guilt came again. “I wanted to apologize for my actions,” he murmured, because it was hard for him sometimes to admit that he’d been wrong. “They were uncalled for.”

Deaton blinked at him, a flicker of surprise coming over him before he smiled and shook his head. With a wave of his hand, the seal of mountain ash broke and he gestured Derek inside. Derek came, respecting the distance the vet put between them as they entered the waiting room.

The couches, though they look uncomfortable, actually weren’t and Derek sank into one gratefully as Deaton took a chair across from him. “They weren’t,” the vet said.

Derek raised an eyebrow.

“Uncalled for,” Deaton clarified. “You were angry and tired and you thought I was the one who’d killed your sister. You are a were, a strong one, and naturally protective. If I hadn’t understood your reasoning, I would have never let you hit me.”

“You couldn’t have stopped me,” Derek scoffed.

“Oh?” It was Deaton’s turn to raise an eyebrow and suddenly Derek found himself frozen. “Are you so sure about that, young alpha?”

A blast of chill had shivers going down his back and then Derek found that he could breathe again. “You’re a warlock,” he said, his shock evident in his tone. “But… you-”

“Yes,” Deaton nodded. “I am.”

“Why are you a vet?” Derek blurted out and then closed his mouth tightly. He was acting like a pup and they both knew it.

Deaton chuckled softly. “I like animals, of all kinds,” he gave Derek a kind look. “I do not blame you for what you did and I only wish I could have helped more, but Peter Hale was someone you and Scott needed to face and I thought my interference would go amiss.”

“You’re probably right about that,” Derek admitted slowly.

Deaton stood. “It is late and I have animals to care for, but Derek,” he waited for Derek’s full attention, which Derek could appreciate, “if you or your pack are ever in need of assistance, do not hesitate to call me.”

The vet, the warlock, left before Derek could correct his assumption on the nature of the so-called pack.

-<-o->-

Scott let his hand rest on Allison’s waist as they walked together back towards her car. The close contacted soothed him in a way he really didn’t want to think about, so he concentrated instead on her analysis of the movie they’d just finished watching.

“I liked the squirrel thing,” Scott said, chiming into the conversation.

Allison rolled her eyes. “Of course you did,” she sighed.

Scott frowned, because that had not been the reaction he’d expected. “Sorry?”

Allison pulled away and turned towards him. “Come on Scott, don’t be childish.”

“Childish?” Scott felt the low edge of something heat inside him, but he pushed it away. “How am I being childish? I thought you liked the movie.”

“I did,” Allison’s face twisted and Scott could practically smell the frustration coming off of her. “But life isn’t all about laughing, alright? Sometimes you have to embrace the bad things that come along with it.”

Scott didn’t think they were talking about the movie anymore. He stepped closer, and then stopped as Allison took a step back. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“What’s wrong?” Allison gaped. “What’s wrong? Can you honestly tell me that your that, that oblivious? What’s wrong? Everything, Scott, everything.”

“Allison,” Scott began and then broke off with a small whine as Allison’s voice grew a bit shrill.

“No, no, I’m done with this,” she hissed. “Not only did I have to move to a new high school and leave behind all of my old friends, I also found out that my family hunts _werewolves_  for a hobby, and coincidentally, my boyfriend happens to  _be_   _one_ , oh and my Aunt was a psychopath who burned down a house and had her throat slit in front of me!”

There was real pain in Allison’s tone even as her voice grew in anger. Scott felt stunned as she continued to rant, his head whiplashing with the intensity of her eyes and the growing feeling that he’d done something wrong to have her so mad at him, but he had no idea how he could make it better.

“People in school are avoiding me, when they’re not insulting me, and my grandfather is practically a stranger to me because of my relationship with you, so don’t just laugh and joke and try to pretend that everything is okay,” Allison turned away.

It took Scott a second to recognize the smell of salty-water in the air and when he did he cleared his dry throat. “I didn’t mean to-”

“I know,” Allison cut him off again, weary now. “I just, I need some time alone.”

“Okay,” Scott agreed immediately, as if it could make things better for her. “I’ll walk home, it’s not a problem.”

Except he knew that it was a problem as he saw his girlfriend, and oh he hoped that she still was, just turn and leave. Scott hadn’t thought that she’d take him up on that offer, that she’d just drive away and leave him at the movie theatre.

But apparently he’d underestimated the situation and that had him off balance and hurting in a way that he couldn’t explain, even if he wanted to.

-<-o->-

No, no no! It was all wrong,  _they_  were all wrong.

The creature paced the room, aware but uncaring that several pairs of eyes watched its every move.

Wrong, wrong.

Worthless.

Time was running out.

The creature yelled in a sort of high-pitched roar and then fixed its gaze on one of the small ones. It moved forward and drew a long finger across the child’s cheek in contemplation.

Another cycle of night, it contemplated. This one would have one more night to prove worthiness to be the creature’s own.

If not, then the small one would join the others. And it would continue to search for the perfect one to fill the place the last would soon be leaving.

Perfection was, after all, limited by time.

-<-o->-

Allison slung her bag over her shoulder, trudging along the sidewalk outside the school. The clouds were dark over head, but it wasn’t yet raining. She wished it would, if only to reflect her mood.

There was a clicking sound and Allison turned to see Matt lowering his camera, shaking his head at the picture on the digital screen. “You shouldn’t have such a sad face,” he told her softly, approaching.

“Yeah, well,” Allison sighed. “It’s been a crappy day.”

“Oh?” Matt gestured for them to keep walking and Allison did. “Want to tell me about it?”

Allison considered the other teen for a moment, then shrugged. She didn’t really want to confess all that had happened the night before.

Matt seemed to take a hint and they continued in silence for several minutes. The boy opened his mouth after a while, asking, “Don’t you have a car?”

“I did,” it came out more bitter than Allison would have liked. “It was…” she paused, thinking of the eggs they’d found all over not hers, but also her parents’ cars. The slashed tires and broken glass had been enough to call the police, but until that got sorted out, she was forced to walk to and from school. “It’s in the shop,” she said finally.

Judging by Matt’s expression, he didn’t really believe her, but he let it go. “Where do you live?”

“The Pendledon neighborhood,” Allison said.

“Oh, really?” Matt smiled. “I’m in High Rise, right behind. We can walk together.”

Allison almost said no, that she didn’t want to walk with him, that she wanted to brood and sulk. Except, that was so young, so childish, and she nodded instead. “I’d like that.”

And by the time they reached Allison’s house, Matt had charmed her enough to have her smiling, despite everything.

He left her at her driveway and Allison found herself waving goodbye from her door as he disappeared down the street corner. When she made to grab her keys from her bag, the door opened to reveal her dad.

“Hey,” Allison said, surprised.

“Who was that?” her dad asked, leaning against the doorframe and gesturing in the direction Matt had gone.

“Just a kid from school,” Allison shrugged. “His name is Matt.”

Her dad frowned, but stepped back and let her in. Before she could go upstairs, he asked, “How’s Scott?”

Allison shook her head, still speechless on that subject. Something must have shown in her face, however, because her dad was frowning. “Did he… if he’s hurt you-”

“No!” Allison protested immediately, because he hadn’t. He was just being oblivious and a bit of an ass, but Allison felt  _safe_  with Scott, even though she knew now what he really was. “Scott would never hurt me.”

“You can’t be sure,” her dad said. “The whole thing with the alpha…”

“Yeah, the whole thing with finding out that my aunt is a murderer,” Allison spat because Scott had told her Derek’s side of the story and from what Allison herself had witnessed in the basement with Derek chained up, well Kate had once been her favorite relative. Now… now she wasn’t even sure she could be proud of the name Argent.

“Allison,” her dad said, shock in his tone.

Allison ignored him as she stormed up the stairs to her room.

-<-o->-

Stiles was laughing, giggling as he ran away. Someone was chasing him, but it was all in good fun, nothing to fear. He laughed louder.

A whine sounded and Stiles stopped, cocking his head to the side. He slowed to a walked and then stopped as he saw a dark shape in the bushes.

His chaser caught up and Stiles turned to it –her. “ _Mom!_ ” he called.

The scene changed and Stiles found himself in his living room. The chairs were set for three, but the table towered over his small form. “ _Please, Mom!_ ” he begged. “ _Can we keep him, pretty please?_ ”

His mom leaned down, her face shadowed as she reached for him.

Stiles woke with a gasp, jerking away from his desk. His textbook was covered in drool and he took a moment to grimace at it, hand coming up to wipe the edge of his mouth. “Gross.”

Sighing, Stiles shook his head of the strange dream that even then slipped away from him. It had been about his mom, he thought… he’d been running from something. Or no, he’d found something.

Stiles glanced at the clock. 1:33 in the morning. Mouth feeling dry, the teen got up to grab some water from the kitchen.

He tried to keep quiet so as not to wake his dad, only the stairs were right next to his dad’s bedroom and there was no one in.

“Dad?” Stiles called out as he wandered the house. It was empty. “Dad, are you in?”

No answer. Stiles gulped his water down quickly and then ran upstairs for his jacket and keys. He had school tomorrow, but his dad was working late and his mind was still full of the soft memory of a gentle touch.

It used to be a tradition he and his dad would do together, on nights when they couldn’t sleep. They’d drive out the half an hour it took to get to the graveyard where his mom lay in rest and they’d sit by her grave and talk to her.

As if she were there. As if she could help with their problems.

And though they’d be talking to her, they’d also be talking to each other because they were both there and it was if she was there to listen, because her grave was the medium that always got father and son to finally let out their feelings and things had slowly begun to get better.

Stiles hadn’t been out there in almost a year, the last time being the anniversary of her death, and somehow doing it without his dad seemed meaningful.

He just wasn’t sure if it was meaningful in the right way.

-<-o->-

Sheriff Stilinski had worked his way up to the proverbial top at Beacon Hill when it came to his work. He remembered when he was young, when his wife had been pregnant with his son and yet he’d still had to come home late night after night, every department from homicide to narcotics calling him in…

She’d always been understanding, his wife. Always ready with a smile and some dinner in the microwave or, on the nights he was too late even for that, an angelic face to see as he slipped into bed besides her.

All of it, her simple touches that seemed to leave a ghostly impression hours after they’d left, her smile that would brighten rooms, her eyes that shone like sunlight over the ocean… all of that came rushing back to him as he stood in the cold wind of a normal Thursday night.

The scene was almost cleaned up by now, another officer still consoling the parents who’d been asked to come identify their son’s body.

The first of the missing children, found by a late night jogger in pieces on the side of the road. He’d obviously been placed there on purpose and just the thought was enough to make bile rise in the sheriff’s throat.

He couldn’t help but see his son’s face as he looked at that young boy’s open-eyed expression of pain and terror. Stiles had been that age, the age of that poor dead kid, when his mother had died.

If it had been Stiles instead, not the sheriff’s wife…

He turned away and in doing so caught sight of the headlights coming down the road. He could recognize his son’s jeep anywhere, and so waited until Stiles had parked and got out, moving slowly towards him.

“Dad,” Stiles said softly. “Car accident?”

The sheriff shook his head. “No.”

He knew he would tell his son later, because though he shouldn’t, he often ended up confessing his hardest cases to Stiles. In some ways, his son had come to replace the empty hole his wife had left. It hurt the sheriff to think that, but he knew it to be true. The amount of responsibility Stiles put on his shoulders to keep them both sane was phenomenal… too much for a high school boy, and yet he’d never complained.

“Why are you out so late?” the sheriff asked his son softly.

Stiles looked down and the man was immediately touched by how much the move made him look like his mother. “I was visiting Mom’s grave.”

Sheriff Stilinski felt something pang in his chest and he pulled his son forward into a hug. Stiles shook underneath him and he held on tighter. “It’s okay, son,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”

They both knew that the hug was as much for the sheriff’s benefit as for Stiles, but neither of them said anything as they continued to stay there in the comfort of each other’s arms long after the other officers and the dead boy’s parents had left.

In the wake of the memory of the gorgeous woman who’d touched their hearts, they were all each other had left.


	3. Episode Three - Lost Children

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “The more powerful you become as a shapeshifter, the more you can shift your shape.” – Jeff Davis, ComicCon 2011 Teen Wolf Panel to the question of why was Laura a full wolf when Scott and Stiles unburied her? I’m going to play off this idea, possibly more than the show will.

The little boy giggled as he ran along the edge of the park. He looked back and found that he’d lost sight of the other players of Tag.

“Nahnahnana,” he laughed. “You can’t get me!” He hummed the theme song to his favorite TV show, spinning in circles in childish happiness at the bright, sunny day.

A shadow loomed and the boy looked up, blinking. His humming died on his lips.

“Hello, little one,” a low male voice said.

The boy stood frozen still, transfixed by the figure. The creature beckoned with a long finger and the boy moved as if he were a puppet on tight strings.

“What a beautiful child,” the figure said softly. “Come with me, I will take care of you.”

The little boy made a small noise as long arms clasped themselves around him, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t scream.

-<-o->-

“What’s the best way to convince you?”

“Stiles?” Derek blinked as the human teen appeared in the doorway of the burnt out house.

“Who else?” Stiles rolled his eyes and sighed. “You bit Lydia.”

“Yeah,” Derek cleared his throat. “I did.”

“So what is it? What’s the last step? What do I need to say to convince you that we  _need_ you,” Stiles asked, approaching Derek.

“I don’t know,” Derek said. “My wolf…”

Silence that stretched between them, floating like tendrils of smoke through the burnt house around them.

“I want to see,” Stiles said. “Please.”

Derek closed his eyes. “Stiles.”

“Please,” Stiles said again.

Derek looked at him, mouth set in a straight line, but he stood and shed his jacket and shirt. “Watch carefully.”

The first thing that changed were his eyes, flashing red and blue in flickering succession. Then his teeth elongated to fangs, nails extending into claws. Hair and fur mixed and spread all over, his back arching forward and his knees cracking slightly. For a brief second, Stiles saw the monster that had been Peter Hale, before it was morphing again, slumping down against the ground.

Stiles felt as if he’d been staring for hours, when in reality he knew it had only been a minute or so. The creature on the floor stood, shaking itself.

Stiles dropped to his knees in front of the wolf, unable to forget those bright blue eyes, tufts of hair coming off of grey ears and the black streak that went straight down the wolf’s forehead.

“Puppy,” Stiles breathed.

 

It had been years ago, he remembered suddenly. His mom had still been alive and he’d only been a child. He’d found a puppy in the woods, whimpering over a sprained foot. He’d taken him home and his mom had helped wrap the little things’ paw.

 _“It’s a young wolf, sweetheart,”_  his mom had said.  _“We have to give it to the park rangers, or at least the vet.”_

 _“But Mom!”_ Stiles had whined.  _“He’s scared. Please, can he stay in my room tonight?”_

And his mom had agreed, reluctantly, because the puppy had already curled up at Stiles feet, had made no aggressive motions whatsoever, and seemed not to have any fleas. Stiles spent the night wrapped around the warm creature, petting him until they’d both fallen into a deep sleep. When he’d woken to his mom coming in, a leash in one hand, the wolf pup had been gone, only the fur on his sheets any indication that he’d been there at all.

Stiles hands shook as he reached forward. Derek watched him with all-too-intelligent eyes, the look so similar that Stiles let out a soft sound and buried his face against the now grown-up wolf that he’d taken home all those years before.

He felt the wolf move and shift under him until it was human arms that wrapped around him, pulling him close on the floor and holding him tight. “It was you,” Derek breathed.

“I had always hoped that you had gone back to your family, your pack, that you were okay,” Stiles murmured into Derek’s bare shoulder.

“You were so sweet to me,” Derek said. “It was the first time I had been able to change all the way and I had gotten hurt in a trap. If you hadn’t found me, I might have been caught by hunters.” He paused, warmth seeping through to Stiles. “Regular animal hunters, but in my state they would have been just as much of a problem.”

Stiles nodded, and then laughed softly. “I’ve been dreaming… I didn’t realize, didn’t think to remember. My mom,” he paused. “I don’t like to remember.”

“I understand the feeling,” Derek said, but there was no bite in his tone, just what he’d said: understanding and a hint of morose sadness.

“I guess this explains how you escaped, then, turned human and climbed out the window, huh?” Stiles said after a moment.

“Yeah,” Derek’s breath tickled in his ear, but Stiles didn’t care. There was something happening, something he didn’t quite understand, but he didn’t want it to stop. “This answers my question.”

“What?” Stiles shifted back so that he could look into Derek’s face. He felt so stupid for not recognizing those wolf-blue eyes before. Of course, Derek’s normal eyes were hazel-green, so he supposed he had an excuse.

“Why my wolf doesn’t see you as omega,” Derek said. “You rescued me and let me sleep in your bed and mark you with my scent-”

“It’s normal to let a puppy lick you!” Stiles protested immediately.

Derek’s hand came to rub the back of Stiles’ neck. Stiles knew he should be scared of how close the werewolf claws were to his spinal cord, but it relaxed him instead. “My wolf recognizes you as its mate, Stiles.”

Stiles stiffened. “You mean-”

“Calm down, I can hear your heartbeat rising,” Derek smiled, a soft expression on his face that should have freaked Stiles out, but somehow didn’t. “I’m not going to take you against the floor, or make you do  _anything_  you don’t want to do. A mate doesn’t have to be a sexual partner.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Stiles frowned. Wasn’t that sort of the definition of the word? “Then what does it mean to be a mate, Derek?”

“I’ll put it this way,” Derek said. “Allison is Scott’s mate. His wolf caught her scent the day after he was bitten and attached to it.”

“Wait, so that’s why he’s so obsessed. Why the thought of her can calm him?” Stiles said and Derek nodded. “Okay, sure, that makes sense. But again, pretty sexual.”

“Traditionally, yes,” Derek looked away. “My wolf recognizes you, and unless you die it will likely not move on. Wolves mate for life. However,” his eyes flashed, “that does not mean you are obligated to-”

“Shut up,” Stiles said. “Stop being all chivalrous, frankly it’s freaking me out. I know how Scott gets, if I try to date someone else you’re gonna get all possessive, aren’t you?” he grimaced. “And besides, there is no one else for me.”

“What about Lydia?” Derek raised an eyebrow.

“How do you, no, never mind,” Stiles shook his head. “She’s not right for me. I know it, she knows it. I think, I hope that now we can be friends, but nothing more.”

“Pack,” Derek said. “Not just friends. Pack.”

Pack, Stiles thought. “Derek, are you-?”

“Yes, Stiles,” Derek said. “You were right, it is already calling to me. I will officially claim you all as my pack.” He stopped briefly, staring into Stiles’ eyes. “And as my mate, even if nothing comes of it, all of the wolves of my pack will recognize you as alpha female.”

“Shit,” Stiles blushed. “Female? Really?”

“It’s a title, not in relation to your gender,” Derek shrugged. “My great aunt was the alpha of our family and her husband the alpha female.”

Stiles blinked. “Oh.”

“Talk to the pack, have them  _all_  meet me here tomorrow. They, and that is including you, will need to stay over the weekend if we’re going to do this thing,” Derek stood and began to walk away.

“Derek,” Stiles said, stopping him.

Derek turned slightly to show he was listening.

“This means you’ll explain everything, right? No secrets among pack.”

Lips twitching, Derek nodded. “Once the pups learn to control their gift, I won’t be able to keep secrets from them,” he said. “And I couldn’t keep secrets from you, Stiles.”

Stiles was still puzzling over that as he got into his Jeep and drove home. Sighing, he reached into his bag and picked up his phone, flipping through his contacts. With steady fingers, he clicked the call button.

“Hey, Jackson… don’t hang up- pup. Yeah.”

With a curse, Stiles sighed and tried Lydia.

-<-o->-

“I heard rumors of a warlock in this area.”

Deaton looked at the newcomer and raised an eyebrow. He continued to listen into the phone, nodding every now and then. “Yes, thank you Janice, I will keep you informed about Fluffy.”

The vet hung up the phone and then turned fully to face the man he recognized by reputation, if not by face. “Gerard Argent.”

“I was glad to know, at first, that the rumors were true,” Gerard said, stepping fully into the front of the clinic. “Your Order is notorious for maintaining the peace.”

“Maintaining the balance of nature,” Deaton corrected. “The balance of peace and war.”

“Of course,” Gerard said. “Is that why you have been protecting werewolves?” There was venom in his voice as he said the last word.

“I protect them because in turn they will protect this city, or they will learn to,” Deaton said honestly.

He didn’t expect Gerard to understand. He was right.

“Protect this city?” Gerard snorted. “Have you already forgotten the killings that just recently happened?”

“Forgotten, no,” Deaton shook his head. “I will never forget, but nor will I blame the current wolves for the actions of others.”

“You don’t-” Gerard’s eyes narrowed.

“The ones responsible are now dead,” Deaton said, deliberately pluralizing.

“Perhaps the wolves who are alive currently did not kill innocents,” Gerard sounded as if he didn’t even believe that, “but you cannot expect that to last. They are beasts, they have no morality, no concept of right or wrong.”

Deaton sighed. “Did you know, Mr. Argent, that a number of cultures revere the wolf packs surrounding them, accepting them as protectors from greater evil? Many tribes native to this continent are such.”

“Native Americans,” Gerard frowned. “They don’t know any better. Many cultures have worshiped demons out of fear.”

“Don’t know better?” Deaton raised an eyebrow. “On the contrary, the native tribes lucky enough to be protected by wolf packs, werewolf packs, are some of the most informed of the dangers and the most successful against warring in that danger. The early colonists of the United States were the ones that were often preyed on by demons who realized that the white folk were far easier to attack than those who were under the watchful eyes of their protectors.”

“What then did those packs require of those under their protection?” Gerard sneered. “Weekly sacrifices? Virgins in the night to be ripped apart?”

Deaton scowled, the expression so sudden on his face that any lesser man would have flinched. Gerard twitched instead. “Packs do not kill in random, or kill those who are innocent.”

“You have an idealist view on your werewolves, Doctor,” Gerard countered. “What of France, the wolf my family put down to save a torn village?”

“You would take the account of one traumatized, lone wolf and apply it to the whole species?” Deaton asked.

“Are you implying-” Gerard began.

“I’m not implying anything,” Deaton said. “I cannot stand men who justify  _genocide_ with the actions of a few. And I have used up all of my patience with you.”

“Doctor,” Gerard warned lowly.

“Leave, Hunter,” Deaton said. “I will not warn you again.”

Gerard’s nostrils flared, but he nodded curtly, turned on his heels, and stalked out.

-<-o->-

“Honestly, I’m kind of surprised you called me,” Matt said, leaning back against the park bench, fiddling with a camera in his hands. Every once in a while he would raise it up and click a couple snaps of the scenery. “I thought you were hanging out with your boyfriend this weekend.”

Allison finished off her milkshake and stood, walking over to the trash to throw it away and then came back, flopping down with a sigh. “Well, Scott cancelled on me last minute, something about helping Stiles out or something.”

She thought back to their Thursday date and how tempers had flown suddenly. It hurt something in her, but she wasn’t really sure what.

“Oh,” Matt paused and Allison turned away to look out at the passing joggers, bikers, dogwalkers, and children. “They’re really good friends, aren’t they?” as if it would make her feel better to hear it.

“Yeah, they grew up together,” Allison shrugged. “They both have single parents, so they would switch off at either house when they were kids.”

Matt nodded and then paused. “Do you have any siblings?”

“No,” Allison shook her head. “My parents were… well it never happened.” She took a deep breath and made an almost visible effort to cheer herself a little. “You?”

“Yeah, a sister,” Matt smiled. “She’s six.”

“What’s her name?” Allison asked curiously.

“Katie, err, well Kathleen, but we all call her Katie,” Matt began to press a couple of buttons on his camera. “I have a couple pictures…”

“Show me?” Allison smiled.

They leaned in closer to together, Allison cooing over the cuteness of the dirty-blonde girl Matt showed her. Matt began to tell her stories, funny little anecdotes about funny little girls and before she knew it, Allison had forgotten all about Thursday.

-<-o->-

The pack meeting had gone better than expected, Stiles thought as he grabbed a couple book from his locker. The first bell of Monday morning would be ringing soon and he had enough caffeine in him to keep him awake (though really caffeine wasn’t the best thing for him to consume as much as he did with his ADHD, but he’d researched it and didn’t think it would kill him… probably).

Lydia had been able to drag Jackson over, though Stiles had been worried about her being out of bed so soon, but apparently after getting bitten, or re-bitten, she’d healed up completely and the doctors had, well they’d probably been confused, but they’d let her go.

She was supposed to be back in school today, wasn’t she? Hmm… maybe Stiles would try to sit with her at lunch. Or maybe not, as much as they’d acted a bit like a real pack on Saturday and Sunday (dog piles and rough housing included), he wasn’t sure she, or Jackson, would want anything to do with him during school hours.

Like Derek had said, the pack had treated him a bit like the alpha female, at least once he’d figured out what that looked like, but Stiles didn’t think any of them had realized that yet. Except maybe Lydia, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Lydia was the first to know. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if she knew even before she’d been bitten. She did let him take her to the prom and he didn’t think she would have done that if she’d thought it might mean that his crush on her would increase, which meant she thought he was no longer as interested as he had been.

And she was right, by the time prom came around he had started to lose the crush and began to realize that while he appreciated her for her intelligence and for her beauty and wit, when she wasn’t acting like an idiot, he wasn’t in love with her.

Not that he was in love with-

“Stiles,” a recognizable voice said. Stiles turned to see Danny standing next to him.

“Hey, Danny,” Stiles greeted. “Um, am I in your way, or something?” he turned to look behind him, but of course it was only his locker so he wasn’t sure why Danny was talking to him.

“Uh, no,” Danny gave him a strange look. “Actually, I was wondering if I could ask a favor.”

“What kind of favor?” Stiles asked immediately.

Danny sighed. “I wanted to switch lab partners.”

“Oh,” Stiles frowned. “Look man, I’m sorry about having you hack into the phone records and all-”

“No,” Danny protested. “It’s not that. You’re a good lab partner, Stiles, it’s just that,” he leaned closer and Stiles copied him, curious now, “do you know Isaac?”

“Isaac, on the lacrosse team, Isaac?” Stiles whispered back. “Yeah.”

“Well,” Danny glanced around. “It’s just, I’m worried about him, okay?”

“About his grade?” Stiles frowned. “So you want to do his work for him.”

Danny shook his head. “No, I want you to be his lab partner.”

“Danny, dude,” Stiles smirked. “I’m flattered, really, but you know my grade in chemistry isn’t the best.”

“No, Stiles,” Danny hissed. “I think he’s being abused or something and your father is…”

“Oh,” Stiles breathed out. “I can’t really-” he stopped himself at Danny’s pleading look. He couldn’t take anything to his dad without evidence, but if he could get evidence, “you want me to be his partner, right?”

“Exactly,” Danny nodded. “Would you?”

Stiles stepped back. “Sure,” he said. “On one condition.” He grinned. “You have to answer my question.”

“What questi-” Danny sighed. “Oh, do I find you attractive? Sure, Stilinski, you’re not too bad.”

Stiles beamed. “Thank you!”

-<-o->-

“Lydia!” Jenna screeched, tackling her in a hug.

Lydia pried the girl off and looked around at the group that had suddenly surrounded her. Most of her so-called friends were there, though Jackson and Danny were both missing.

“How are you feeling?” Fred asked.

“All better now,” Lydia flipped her hair, smiling. Truth was, she felt stronger than she ever had before and though some of her feelings were strange, she was incredibly glad to be out of the hospital.

“So you’re up for partying at your house tonight, right?” Rachel winked. “Get-better-soon drinks all around.”

Lydia frowned. “Actually, I can’t. I missed a week of school, remember?”

“You can’t honestly mean you’re ditching us for homework,” Jenna stepped back, aghast. “Come on, girl, your mom throws the best parties!”

“And my mom is still paying the hospital bills,” Lydia said, the trace of a growl in her voice. She cleared her throat and willed it away. “Life isn’t about drinking and having an excuse to hook-up with anyone you can.”

Her ‘friends’ gaped. Lydia felt a hand on her shoulder, but she relaxed under it as she smelled the scent she’d already come to associate with Jackson. “She’s right,” he said, glaring at them. “Lydia almost died, and now all you want if for her to give you free booze. Grow up, or get lost.”

Lydia turned on her heel, Jackson by her side. She waited until they were out of sight and earshot before she sagged against the wall slightly.

“You okay?” Jackson asked, sniffing her softly.

Lydia smiled at him. “Yeah,” she said, amazed by how normal it had become to trust him like this. Sure, she’d dated him on and off for a while, but now there was something more between them, the pack bond, and it was like she’d never even known him before. “You slept in.”

Jackson winced. “I couldn’t really sleep last night.”

She smelled something sour, a lie she realized. “Jackson…”

“Well, I couldn’t,” Jackson sighed. “I’ve been having weird dreams.”

“Weird dreams as in, nightmares?” Lydia prodded, cause she’d been having plenty of those too.

“Not quite,” Jackson closed his eyes. “I don’t know, Lyd. I’m trying to figure it out.”

“Well you know you can talk to me, to us,” Lydia said and then smiled brightly. “We are a pack now after all.”

Jackson groaned. “Does that mean we’re sitting with Dweep and his side-kick at lunch?”

Lydia hit him on the arm. “Scott and Stiles,” she stressed, “we can trust. They’re  _pack_. Unlike our old friends.” She sniffed.

“Yeah, I know,” Jackson smiled. “Though you’re taking all this better than Scott, or I did.”

“Well,” Lydia smirked, “call it female intuition.” Or, she told herself mentally, a long talk with Stiles Saturday night while the rest of the pack were racing through the woods like puppies.

-<-o->-

The sky was in a sort of twilight dusk when Scott headed out, dressed in a tracksuit and sneakers. He sprinted to the woods, still amazed by how easy it was for him to keep going so quickly for such a long length of time.

Scott felt a thrum of energy and he resisted the urge to go on all fours. His teeth grew in his mouth and his nails strengthened, but he kept running.

Stiles had been so excited about the pack meeting last weekend and Scott didn’t like to disappoint his best friend, not when he’d already screwed up so much lately.

But, nice though it might be in hindsight to learn more control, Scott had felt uncomfortable as Derek and Jackson and Lydia bonded, seemed to play off each other without even needing to say anything.

Scott wasn’t stupid, no matter what his grades showed, and his experience with Peter had taught him a thing or two about pack bonds. Derek had bitten Jackson and Lydia, turned them both. They were his direct pack members. But not Scott.

His former alpha was dead by his current alpha’s hands.

Scott felt something like rage rip through, startling because he hated Peter, hated what Peter had made him, but now it was as if all the pent up emotions of that time were coming loose. He opened his mouth and let out a piercing howl.

When he stopped, dark fur covered his hands and the woods looked as bright as if it were day. A branch cracked. Scott sniffed and growled low, golden eyes flashing in the direction of the noise.

Derek stepped forward, eyes bright blue. “Scott,” he murmured.

Scott launched himself at the newly-claimed alpha, going in for a kill even before he realized he was moving. No matter what his rational mind was screaming at him, his instincts howled for blood.

There was no hesitation in Derek’s body when he countered, grabbing Scott’s outstretched arm and using his momentum to hurl the beta away into the nearest tree. Scott got back to his feet in a flash and threw himself forward again.

Derek jumped back and then propelled forward himself off a stump, colliding with Scott and sending them both reeling to the forest floor. Scott twisted under Derek’s grip, but the alpha had him pinned to the ground.

Scott yipped loudly as Derek’s twisted his arm above his head. Derek growled and then bent down, fangs scrapeing against Scott’s neck. Scott banged his head back, trying to get away.

“Submit, Scott,” Derek told him in a rumbling voice.

Scott howled again, or tried to, but it was cut off by the sharp pain that suddenly came from his skin and muscles. His howl turned into a yip, and then to a soft growl, and then he fell silent.

Derek continued to hold his jaws locked on his neck, waiting as Scott began to slowly shift back into fully human form.

“I’m sorry,” Scott murmured, still under Derek’s hold.

Derek’s hot breath huffed on his neck as his fangs retracted. “I know,” the alpha told him. “I should have noticed sooner. I thought you were angry about the pack meeting.”

“No,” Scott shook his head, and then aborted the movement as it twisted the slowly healing wound. “I don’t know what-”

“You didn’t feel as though you were part of the pack,” Derek explained. He sat up, pulling Scott with him. “You are.”

“Even though I wasn’t bitten by you,” Scott turned his eyes to Derek’s now hazel ones.

Derek smirked and ran a finger over the new bite mark. “Lydia wasn’t originally bitten by me, either,” he reminded the beta. “You are both my pack as much as Jackson, and as much as Stiles.”

“Stiles is different,” Scott protested.

Derek froze and then sighed. “Yes.”

“Is it because he’s human?” Scott asked. “Or…”

“If you were to bring Allison into the pack, she would be accepted because she is your mate,” Derek said slowly.

“Oh,” Scott blinked and then looked at Derek anew. “Oh.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. Scott’s eyes flashed gold. “If you hurt him,” the beta growled softly, “I  _will_  fight you. I don’t care if you’re my alpha now, he is my friend and he deserves the best.”

There was surprise in Derek’s eyes now, and then he nodded slowly. “I won’t hurt him,” he said and stood. He waited until Scott had stood as well before pressing hard on the bloody spot of the beta’s shirt collar. “I’ll let that go, because you were protecting your best friend, but if you ever threaten me again, Scott…”

“I understand,” Scott bowed his head.

Derek snorted. “See that you do. Now, go to bed, you have school tomorrow.”

“Yes,  _Dad_ ,” Scott smirked and ran off before Derek could reply.

-<-o->-

He was running, tripping over uneven ground. His back felt hot, the woods were illuminated with an orange glow and filled with screaming.

The faint sound of howl echoed around and he sobbed, _“Momma!”_

He tripped, the ground rushing up to meet him. He continued to cry.

 _“Who’s this?”_ Soft hands touched him. _“Where did you come from, boy?”_

He shook his head, growling as his dad would sometimes do, but it came out weak and turned into a cough.  _“Momma, Papa!”_ he cried.

Jackson sat up, panting. His body was covered in cold sweat and he raised a shaking hand to touch the back of his neck at the claw marks that, ever since he’d been bitten, had healed over easily until all that remained were faint white scars.

With an unsteady laugh at his own reactions, Jackson got out of bed and headed downstairs for a glass of water.

“Jackson, honey?” his mother said from the loveseat where she sat by his father. They were watching the television, but muted it as he approached. “Are you okay, dear?”

“I-” Jackson sighed and looked down at his glass before setting down. “Just a nightmare.”

“Nightmare?” his father blinked. “What sort of nightmare?”

“Oh, dear, is it from that night at the school?” his mother worried immediately. “You should have said-”

“No, it’s not that,” Jackson told her quickly. “It was,” he paused, “more like a memory.”

His parents froze visibly and Jackson’s eyes widened. “What?” he asked.

“Jackson,” his father said slowly. “This is important, have you been remembering, dreaming of…” he trailed off, struggling for words.

“The woods, running through the woods and crying,” Jackson rubbed his head. “Did I run away as a kid, or something?”

“Run away?” his mother was white. “No, dear… John,” she turned to his father, “the doctors said he might remember someday.”

“I know,” his father said. “But it’s been so many years…”

Jackson blinked, what they were talking about coming to him suddenly. “Is that where they found me? That was before you, wasn’t it?”

“We told you that we adopted you late,” his father said. “And that there had been trauma, that’s why you couldn’t remember anything from before.”

“You never told me they found me in the woods. Tell me,” Jackson demanded.

“You were around nine years old,” his mother began. “The park ranger found you, just by chance. It was the middle of the night and you were crying for your parents.”

“Where were they, then?” Jackson asked. “My parents?”

He wondered if they’d been murdered and suddenly he swayed on his feet. His mother’s hands twitched, but neither she nor his father moved to go to him. They’d never been a very touchy-feely family.

“Jackson,” his father said, “the night they found you was the night of the Hale fire.”

Jackson’s knees went weak. “You told me you had no idea who my parents were,” he accused softly.

His parents, his adopted parents, exchanged a glance. “We could never be sure,” his father said. “The Hales never went to the local hospital for births or even check-ups, there weren’t clear records of how many people lived in that house. You never even went to elementary school.”

Well they were a werewolf family, Jackson thought. He was probably home-schooled by the pack.

“Is Jackson even my name?” he asked, unable to even recognize his own voice in that moment.

“Of course,” his mother said. “You knew your own name, then, wouldn’t answer to anything else.”

Jackson nodded, but inside he was spinning. He felt the need to go outside and run, to seek comfort from the pack, and his alpha, and… Oh god, he was related to Derek!

Jackson sat down heavily on the couch. “Did you know that there’s a Hale left?”

“Derek?” his mother said. “He’s working as a trainer at my gym. Sweet boy, if a bit surly.”

“Well he thinks he has no family left,” Jackson pointed out. “Mom, Dad…”

“It’s your choice,” his father said. “Remember, we can’t be sure, but, well if your memories are returning-”

“We just want you to be happy,” his mother reached forward and Jackson allowed her to hug him.

“I know, thanks,” Jackson said. He thought of Derek, his alpha, his, what, cousin?, and said again, “thanks.”

-<-o->-

Chris lifted up another box, dropping it on to the bed. Kate’s attorney had sent several of her boxes over to their house and now it was Chris’ job to sort through them, see what might be sold or what should be kept.

It had only been about a month since his sister’s death, too soon for him to be unaffected by the keepsakes he was sorting.

This box was unusually heavy and as Chris opened it, he was a bit surprised to see it was full of books.

Kate never really was a reader, not of fiction. She’d always grinned and said, “ _Why would I read fantasy when my life is far more exciting?_ ”

Then again, Chris wasn’t as surprised when he realized that all the books were on werewolves or other mythologies. Shaking his head, he began to sort them into piles of ones that his family already owned and one’s they didn’t.

It was a good half-hours work and by the time he’d reached the bottom, he was ready for a break. Without even look, Chris reached for the last tome.

Except, this wasn’t a non-fiction encylopedia. There was no title, only a symbol on the front. The Argent family crest, like what had been on her necklace, the evidence that had told the police what they thought had happened, that Chris had planted in hopes that things would clear up and go away.

By the bags under his daughter’s eyes, at least at her school things hadn’t. He knew she continued to get the occasional hate letter like the first one they’d found, but she’d told him to trust her to be able to take care of herself.

Breathing in through his nose, Chris opened the cover of the book in his hands. Neat handwriting sprawled across his vision and he flipped a couple of pages.

It was Kate’s, of course it was. Her diary, maybe, except that Kate was not the kind to keep a diary in the traditional sense. He knew what it must be.

Hunting records.

Chris sat down heavily on the bed as he began to realize and translate what he was looking at. Records of her kills, meticulous details about every gory job, every cruel inclination she’d ever had laid out on paper.

It had been stupid of her to keep such a record, Chris thought faintly. But then again, she could probably play it off as fiction, too unbelievable for so many people.

Not Chris, no Chris read and began to understand things, all the things he’d ignored because she was his sister.

Three-quarters of the way in, Chris paused at the name Harris and then began to read more closely.

And his sister had always been a sexual lady, but here was something that had him wanting to run to the sink. Here, on paper in neat handwriting, it was laid out in plain English for him to see. Harris’ chemistry, the seduction of Derek, paying off and threatening and willfully finding arsonists to help her.

Names that Chris recognized, those arsonists… and finally he thought he understood. Peter Hall hadn’t been killing innocents. Scott, with the bite he’d been given, had been the only real victim of the whole event.

No, it had been about retribution and in the end Kate had gotten death at the end of those claws for the murders she’d committed. The deaths she’d planned.

And maybe Chris could have contemplated his sometimes sadistic sister burning down the house in a fit of rage, in hot-headed anger that, when it had died down, had left her with a deeper guilt.

He could never have predicated that it had been planned out, meticulously organized, all leading, whether that was her intention or not, to the destruction of a depressed teenager named Derek Hale.

Chris only realized he was crying, shaking and crying, when a teardrop fell down to blur the inked words on the page in his lap.


	4. Episode Four - Mating Habits

“And then Mrs. Peterson was like, ‘Stilinski, why is there rice in the principle’s hair?’ and my counselor stepped in the office only to step in the puddle leftover from earlier and he and Mrs. Peterson when flying into the fern-”

“Wait, the principle’s precious fern? The baby of the staff, that fern?” Isaac’s mouth was open in amazement.

“Yes, that fern!” Stiles chortled.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Isaac laughed. “Oh god, and you didn’t get expelled?”

Stiles held up his hands defensively. “The fern lived.” Then he leaned closer. “Three of the leaves are still purple.”

That did it: Isaac bent over, clutching his side as he laughed. Stiles grinned at him, glad to have finally made it to this point with his new lab partner. Nothing like good ol’ Stilinski charm to liven up a depressed teen.

Still, there was something about Isaac that caught Stiles off guard. He just couldn’t put his finger on what.

Soon, he told himself. He’d figure it out soon.

-<-o->-

Danny waited by the bike stand for Stiles to finish his conversation with Isaac. The hyperactive teen had promised him a ride home in exchange for all the information Danny had on the silent lacrosse player and Danny had accepted.

Now, though, it seemed as though Stiles was killing Isaac with one of his unexpected stories. Danny felt a smudge of annoyance at being ignored, but then again, he’d never seen Isaac smile so broadly or even laugh before so he figured he’d survive waiting another couple of minutes.

To distract himself for the way a smile seemed to light up Isaac’s whole face (and wouldn’t his boyfriend be not so excited to see him lusting after another kid) Danny looked around at the school’s slowly emptying parking lot.

He spotted a familiar face leaning against a black car and blinked. Miguel, wasn’t it? Stiles’ cousin? What was he doing at the high school?

Miguel’s gaze was fixed on something. Danny followed it, but all he could see in that direction was Stiles and Isaac.

He looked back. Yep, Miguel was looking that way, but that didn’t explain his coiled posture. The man looked as if he would gladly rip the two away from each other.

Danny didn’t think cousins got so jealous of each other. But then again, Miguel hardly looked like the kind of guy to fit into the Stilinski family, not with his tall, dark, handsome looks; and killer sneer.

“Thanks man, I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Stiles’ voice floated to Danny’s ears. He turned back to the two teens to see that they were walking in his direction.

Isaac nodded. “Tomorrow,” he agreed softly. “Bye Stiles.” With a wave, the boy turned to the left and began walking, either home or to his car, Danny didn’t know.

Stiles spotted him and trotted over, a smile on his face. Danny took the chance to glance once more at Miguel.

The glaring man and his black car were gone.

Danny blinked as Stiles patted him on the arm. “Okay there, Danny?”

“Yeah,” Danny shook his head. He waited until he and Stiles were in that beat-up jeep and on their way, scenery passing by from behind lightly scratch windows, before asking, “So, does your cousin live in Beacon Hill?”

“What?” Stiles looked distracted, changing lanes to get on the highway. “All my cousins live in San Diego.”

“Oh,” Danny paused. “So is Miguel visiting again?”

Stiles looked over. “Miguel?”

Yeah, Danny thought. “The nose-bleeder?”

“Oh, oh!” Stiles swerved suddenly in-between two cars. “Um, yeah, he’s uh…”

Danny raised an eyebrow and Stiles flushed. “Okay, maybe he’s not my cousin.”

“Boyfriend?” Danny asked.

Stiles’ cheeks reddened even further, but he shook his head. “No.”

Danny leaned back in his chair. “Then why was he staring at Isaac like he wanted to take him out back with a shotgun?”

Stiles jumped and slammed on the breaks as the light in front of them turned red. Danny’s own boyfriend was a speed demon though so he was used to quick turns and quick stops and he barely twitched. “He was what?”

“At school just now, he was watching you two,” Danny said. “I thought he looked like the possessive sort,” he mused.”

“Possessive, yeah,” Stiles murmured, something a bit darker in his voice.

Danny stiffened. “Stiles, do you-”

Stiles glanced over, “oh, no, nothing like that,” he amended quickly. “He’s just a bit protective of his p- friends.”

Danny could tell there was more to that story, but he figured he’d let it slide. For now. One problem at a time.

“So how’s Isaac?”

-<-o->-

“The most important thing about the pack bond is that it stabilizes our inner wolves,” Derek explained, standing in front of his pack.

Lydia sat between Scott and Jackson on the worn couch. Allison sat on Scott’s other side, eyes wide as she listened in on her first pack meeting. Derek had been hesitant when Scott had asked if she could come, but he couldn’t, in good conscience, deny Scott’s mate the right to learn more about them.

Stiles was on his laptop, typing up notes like he always did. Derek would find it dorky, if he didn’t know that Stiles did it for all of them, so that there would be something any werewolf could refer to if they were confused about their new abilities.

Derek figured that, once Stiles finished it and figured out how to spread it to the greater were community, he’d be were-famous for it.

“Without a healthy pack, the wolf becomes more feral. Anyone connected through an unstable pack bond will have a hard time learning control because of this,” Derek went on.

Allison raised her hand. Derek looked at her and waited. She blushed, but asked her question. “How can you tell if a pack is unhealthy?”

Derek frowned. “Other than their general lack of civility… usually because they are unable to progress past their base wolf stage.” At the confused looks Derek went on. “Bitten wolves start at the beta stage of were transformation. Natural born wolves default at more wolf-like, but they can control themselves down to beta. Any wolf can learn how to transform fully into a wolf, so long as they’re in a stable pack.”

“So the other alpha,” Allison said. “He couldn’t be more than the… the monster form he was in?”

“Right,” Derek nodded. “He- Peter was sick.” Derek stopped there and figured they could make the extrapolations they wanted from that.

“Does that mean that we can learn to turn into wolves?” Scott asked with a grin.

“Eventually, it does,” Stiles chimed in and he got up, moving towards the kitchen. He came back a moment later with a bowl of chips and some water bottles. “Come on now, eat up, you’ll need your strength.”

The pack began to dig in. Derek nodded to Stiles, smiling to himself. He wondered if Stiles knew how he much he’d embraced his role in the pack. Probably, Derek had come to realize that Stiles knew a lot more than most thought he did.

“Derek’s going to work you guys on stamina and strength,” Stiles said as they munched. “The stronger the wolf, the easier they will be to manage. Counterintuitive, but true.”

“When weak, the wolf feels threatened and wants to be in control,” Derek rumbled. “The more strength you give to your wolf, the more you will merge with it, become one instead of two separate faces. Remember, your wolf is nothing to be scared of, it is a  _gift_ , a part of you heightened to the next level.”

Stiles nodded and then cleared his throat. Immediately, all the pack’s attention came back to him. As he began to explain the simple exercise they’d be going through, Derek studied the alpha female.

His mind flashed back to the school, to seeing Stiles and that boy laughing together. He’d smelled more than a whiff of arousal coming from the stranger teen’s direction and it had infuriated him.

But, as much as his wolf screamed that Stiles was  _his_ , the boy was seventeen. He had the right to date whomever. Derek would not get in the way of that.

Couldn’t… even with the knowledge that as alpha female Stiles was supportive and responsible. Even knowing that Stiles was attracted to him Derek wouldn’t push anything, because just being attracted wasn’t enough and Derek had been dreaming of the teen since he was a child and had snuck out of his bedroom.

They were all so young, Derek thought. Stiles and Scott and Jackson and Lydia and Allison. They had no idea when they’d started their last school year that this would happen to them. And yet, look at them now, shouldering their new responsibilities with grace and maybe a couple of aggression issues, but how far they’d already come astounded him.

They’d become a pack for Derek to be proud of. And, he realized as Stiles finished and turned to give him the floor, he was.

-<-o->-

Stiles slid down next to Allison on the front porch. She smiled at him and then turned back towards the woods.

“They’ll be gone for about an hour,” Stiles offered. “Us humans unfortunately are a little too slow for this part of the weekend.”

“Hunting?” Allison asked.

“Racing,” Stiles said. “To the other side of the forest and back.”

“That’s like ten miles!” Allison gaped.

Stiles wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Werewolves.”

Allison’s nose scrunched up rather adorably. “Right.”

Stiles laughed. “So, Allison, any questions, secrets to tell, human heart to heart, etcetera?”

“Are they out of hearing range?” Allison asked.

Stiles nodded, wondering if there was actually something Allison wanted to ask him. After a moment, the girl folded her legs in and tucked her chin onto them. “You’ve known Scott for a while…”

“What’s wrong?” Stiles asked her quietly.

“Is this… is our relationship normal?” Allison looked at him from the corner of her eye.

Stiles couldn’t stop himself from stiffening and he saw Allison notice. “Not quite.”

Allison titled her head. “Explain, please.”

“There’s this thing that happens with werewolves,” Stiles said. “Mating. Getting a mate. The wolf imprints on a mate that is compatible, a combination of pheromones and the human-side’s basic attraction, and the bond sets in.”

“So…” Allison blinked. “That means what, exactly?”

“A werewolf’s mate is able to calm their wolf down, help them achieve better control. It’s a nicer form of kryptonite.” At Allison’s look, he shook his head. “It’s permanent, _technically_ , meaning that wolves mate for life. However, there have been instances of mates separating, getting a divorce and the like, and then the wolf eventually moves on. Or, rather, the human side can force the wolf to move on.”

“So it doesn’t really change anything,” Allison frowned.

“It does,” Stiles argued. “I mean, I don’t want you to feel obligated, but it’s not… easy. Unless there’s been death, serious misuse and abuse of emotions or otherwise, or some other extenuating circumstance, the wolf won’t move on, no matter what the human thinks.”

Allison looked shocked and Stiles quickly amended. “Scott is young, if you guys broke up he could probably get the wolf to settle on someone else. But my point is that he doesn’t want to. You’re his mate, you mean everything to him right now. I know he doesn’t always show it, but he cares for you a hell of a lot.”

“His wolf does, you mean,” the girl stated flatly.

Stiles sighed. “The wolf just amplifies what’s already there. Scott cares for you,” loves you, he thought but didn’t say. “You’re his mate, and he’s yours.”

“So it affects me too?” Allison asked. Her tone was deliberately bland, steady as if she weren’t yet sure her own opinion.

“Slightly,” Stiles told her. “Not as much as it would if you were a wolf, but it’s sort of an echo feeling. If he gets hurt, or super angry, you’ll probably sense it, but it’s not a compulsion. It doesn’t alter your feelings, just, like I said, amplifies them.”

Allison leaned back, and then looked at him fully. “It’s Derek, right?”

“What?” Stiles blinked.

“Derek’s your mate, isn’t he?” Allison prodded, smiling. “That’s why you know so much about this. You’ve been researching.”

“How-” Stiles gulped dryly. “Not just a pretty face, huh?”

Allison laughed. “Apparently, neither are you.”

-<-o->-

“Hey, McCall!”

Scott turned in place, wondering who would be calling for him after the first period bell had already rung. He’d slept in, but he didn’t think his teacher was going to accept the excuse, ‘sorry I was tired after learning how to be a better werewolf all weekend’.

The teen coming towards him was not in the pack. It was Matt, the kid whose smell had been all over Allison for the past several weeks.

The training was coming in handy, Scott thought, as he stifled the urge to growl. “Hey,” he said. “What’s up, dude?”

Matt smiled at him, not a nice smile either, more like the kind of sneer Derek got before he was kicking Scott’s ass. But then again, Matt wasn’t a werewolf. Scott doubted there was anything the other teen could do to him that would really hurt much.

“I have something I want to show you,” Matt said and he pulled a couple of photos triumphantly from his pocket.

Curious, if wary, Scott took them. And then nearly dropped them.

It was the pack, from this weekend. Matt had gotten pictures of the whole pack, wolfed out and all. Not shitty, photo-shopped pictures, but actual real-life fucking incriminating pictures.

This time, when the growl came from Scott’s chest, he let it loose. Meeting Matt’s wide eyes, Scott slowly and deliberately ribbed the photos apart and balled them up, pushing the shreds into his pocket to burn later.

Matt’s arms were up before he could gather enough self-control to speak. “The digital copies are on three separate hard drives. If you hurt me in anyway, I have a friend in Seattle who’ll spread them all over the Net.”

Scott froze and then concentrated on his breathing. After a moment, the red hazing over his vision faded. “What do you want?”

“Nothing hard,” Matt said. “I figured that… whatever  _that_  is isn’t any of my business.”

There was a sharp smell in the air, like unwashed clothes heightened into a sort of sour flavor. Matt was terrified, Scott realized. Really frightened, but also determined.

“But,” Matt continued. “You shouldn’t drag a nice girl like Allison into it.”

Scott blinked. He’d been shocked himself when Allison had come to him and asked to meet his pack. At first he’d thought that maybe her wacko family had put her up to it (or, well, he’d thought that when Stiles had brought up the idea), but Allison had wanted to mend the bridge that fight on their last date had wrecked.

And she’d done so well the whole weekend, she’d been so supportive and had even suggested a number of training exercises they could all, her and Stiles included, to take part in.

“Allison wasn’t forced into anything,” Scott growled. “She came over by her own choice.”

“I don’t care,” Matt’s face twisted into something fiercely protective. “You’re dangerous. You could hurt her.”

Scott felt a familiar echo of the sentiment in his own heart and had Matt come to him a month ago, he would have agreed with him. Now though… now he’d already gotten the ‘mate’ lecture from Stiles and Derek both, separately, and he knew that he could control himself. That he didn’t even need to control himself because his wolf had accepted Allison. His wolf would  _never_  hurt her. And yeah, they were young, but he felt something for her stronger than he’d felt anything in his life.

And now this  _human_  wanted to take that away from him?

Matt must have seen the argument flashing in his eyes. “If you don’t,” he said slowly. “I will reveal your… gang to the world and then what would happen to her?”

If Allison’s family knew she had gone to a pack meeting, Scott thought. Or, if their pack had to run from the military or the press or even other hunters. What would happen to Allison?

Matt smirked, knowing he’d won. “Goodbye, McCall. Let’s not chat again, huh?”

Scott watched him leave, feeling helpless and wanting nothing more than to rip that smug expression of his face. Preferably with his claws.

-<-o->-

“Hey,” Jackson smiled, brushing Lydia’s hair back from her face.

Lydia’s eyes were half-closed, her mouth slightly bruised but already healing. “Why didn’t we do this before?” she asked.

“We have,” Jackson reminded her.

Lydia rolled her eyes, stretching towards him, completely unashamed of her nudity. “Don’t be daft, Jackson, after we’d both been turned.”

Jackson shrugged. “Because we wanted didn’t want our wolves to mate with each other?”

“Too late,” Lydia said, smiling.

“Yeah,” Jackson chuckled. He’d been worried about it, after Stiles had informed all of them about what mating meant, but he couldn’t bring himself to care now, with Lydia in his arms.

Lydia shifted, scratching his side lightly. The morning light was shining through her bedroom window, highlighting the blond in her strawberry hair, and Jackson felt refreshed. He hadn’t dreamed at all the night before and if that was a side-effect of sleeping with his mate, then he would endeavor to do so as often as possible.

“Are you going to tell me?” Lydia asked.

Jackson turned his head away, studying Lydia’s teddy bear that she insisted on keeping. He knew he couldn’t keep anything from her, especially not now, and he didn’t even want to. “I found out who my birth family is… was.”

Lydia sat up so that they could see each other’s faces. She didn’t say anything, but her eyes told him to continue.

“It’s,” Jackson took in a deep breath, “the Hales. I’m a Hale by birth.”

“Derek…” Lydia murmured.

“I don’t know if I’m his brother or cousin or what,” Jackson confessed. “Apparently their family- their pack never went to the regular hospitals, but I was found on the night of the fire in the woods near the house.”

“Oh,” Lydia pursed her lips looking deep in thought. “I thought that you and Derek smelled similar, but I figured that was because Derek had bitten you.”

“He bit you too,” Jackson said, head turning with that new information.

“After the old alpha,” Lydia rolled her eyes. Then they rested straight on Jackson’s and flashed gold. “Have you told him? No, of course you haven’t. Jackson, he thinks he has no family left. You need to tell him.”

“Lydia…” Jackson winced.

“You both deserve to have real family, Jackson,” Lydia said and her tone conveyed her happiness for him, her contempt for his adoptive parents and their ignorance on Jackson’s needs, and her determination to bring the pack closer with this new information.

Jackson shook his head. “I can’t ever win an argument against you, can I?”

“Nope,” Lydia smirked. Her smile turned coy. “Now, come, you’re our alpha’s long-lost family member. I think that deserves some celebration.”

“Yes Lydia,” Jackson said dutifully and then, a happy growl coming from his chest, he flipped them both over.

-<-o->-

“Allison,” her grandfather said as she finished checking and cleaning the weapons they’d been working with.

“Yeah?” Allison asked.

Gerard moved closer and Allison looked up at him. He waited until their eyes had met before speaking, “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Allison blinked, wondering at the wording. Gerard had never been one to hesitate. “Yes…?”

Gerard’s lips twitched, but he sobered all too quickly. “About your boyfriend.” Allison stiffened immediately, but Gerard was still going. “I know you think you like him, love him even. I know how it feels to be in your first serious relationship, but Allison, darling, I want you to think real hard. He’s just a kid now, but he has instincts that he can’t control.”

Can’t control? Allison thought about the pack meeting she’d gone to, to her conversation with Stiles and to Scott’s grace as he and Jackson sparred. Once, she would have taken her family’s word over anyone’s, but she’d grown now into her own self and she’d seen things that her grandfather apparently couldn’t even imagine.

Her whole family hated Scott, told her to stay away from him.

She hadn’t even seem him since the pack meeting.

“I was a teenage boy once,” Gerard was continuing, though Allison thought that argument stupid because for all her grandfather’s experience Scott wasn’t just a boy, he was a werewolf and her mate.

And he wasn’t answering her calls.

“Don’t worry about it,  _Grandfather_ ,” Allison snapped, her anger at her reclusive boyfriend coming out. “He’s been avoiding me. I can only wonder why.”

“Why?” Gerard looked actually stunned. “What are you implying, Allison?”

“Just that maybe he doesn’t want to be dating someone whos-” and there Allison had to cut off because she was just now realizing that maybe that was the real problem, that maybe Scott was avoiding her because of her family, “whose family wants him dead,” she finished quietly.

“I don’t want the boy dead,” Gerard tried to say, but Allison wasn’t listening. Neither of them could fully believe him anyways. Yeah, maybe her grandfather didn’t want him dead now, not when he was a kid, but when he was older? They both knew better.

Too late, Allison realized that she’d fallen in love, actually fallen in love. That this wasn’t some easy high school romance that they’d move on from, this was for life and Scott hadn’t even realized that he’d tied himself to her. Of course he was regretting it, of course he was.

And she couldn’t even blame him for it.

-<-o->-

“Matt?”

Matt sat up, rubbing his eyes as he squinted in the dark. “Katie?”

Katie stood in his doorway, silhouetted by the light from the hallway. Upon hearing her name, she rushed to his bedside. Matt held out his arms, letting the girl climb onto the bed and curl up in his lap. “What’s wrong?”

“Scary dream,” Katie mumbled into his shoulder.

“Bout what?” Matt asked, propping her up on his side instead of his bladder.

Katie shook her head and kept her mouth shut, burying herself closer to him. After a moment of silence, Matt looked back towards the open door and internally sighed. It really should be their parents dealing with nightmares in the middle of the night… but at this time their dad would still be ‘at work’, more likely sleeping at some other woman’s house, and their mom was probably passed out from booze, unable or unwilling to wake up for anything less than a house fire.

And maybe not even then.

Matt hadn’t had anyone to go to when he was small and scared, so when Katie came into the world he’d made a vow to be the best big brother she could ever need. And if that meant two o’clock wake-up calls, then, well, at least Katie wouldn’t be crying alone.

“You know I’ll protect you from anything, right Katie-girl?” Matt told her.

“I know,” Katie said, wiping away her tears. She was already too smart for her age, too responsible out of necessity.

Much as Matt tried, the six year old spent way more time alone than any kid should ever have to. Matt had been eight by the time he’d figured out how to cook for himself, but he’d taught Katie how to climb up on the counters and get into the cupboards for snacks when she was three, because of all the worries on their parent’s minds, their children’s hunger was not one of them.

Matt yawned and looked down to find that, by the looks of it, Katie had fallen back asleep on his chest. It wouldn’t be the first time, or the last, so instead of making her go back to her room, Matt just laid his head back down on the pillow and threw the covers over both of them.

As he slipped into sleep, he thought he caught sight of Katie’s satisfied smile and he rolled his eyes, not tricked at all.

-<-o->-

It was late, the moon a sliver in the sky as Jackson padded lightly up to the house that had been haunting his dreams.

He could see it now, the husk forming back into a tiled roof, soft red siding and a swinging chair on the front porch where an older woman used to sit. Just like during the pack meetings in the daytime, the present and past warred in his vision as Jackson entered the house and saw charred remains repairing themselves in his mind’s eye.

There was the cloth chair where a man, maybe his father, would read aloud to him and the other kids –his siblings, maybe, or cousins?–, and there the T.V. where old movies would constantly be playing, comfortable background noise. There was the kitchen where he was told never to go so as not to be underfoot of the many betas who cooked and prepped and cleaned up for the pack.

Upstairs, his bedroom had been shared, but he couldn’t remember with whom. It was frustrating, not remembering. Little by little, every time he was here he recalled just a bit more, another fragment.

But it was never enough.

Jackson shifted slightly, feeling strength amassing in his legs. He ran up the stairs three steps at a time and then jumped up, through one of the many holes in the roof, onto the only stable part left. Ironically, this patch of bricks had made up what must have been a huge chimney.

He sat there, watching the moon in silence, until he heard running claws on leaves and then the scratching of an agile figure climbing up to the roof. In a moment, Derek sat down next to him.

Jackson continued to look at the moon as it slowly was covered by a silver-lined cloud.

“Why are you here, Jackson?” Derek asked softly, commandingly. Always the alpha.

“I thought it was the claw marks you gave me, at first,” Jackson murmured, reaching to rub the back of his neck. “I had dreams, nightmares about the fire… but you weren’t even here when it burned, were you?”

Jackson looked over and saw Derek’s eyes on him, glowing blue in the night. “No,” Derek said after a moment. “Laura and I were at an after-school movie.”

“Was it at least a good movie?” Jackson asked weakly, something tight in his throat.

“No,” Derek coughed. “No, it wasn’t.”

Jackson turned back to the moon. “Did you know we were related?”

“I wasn’t ever sure,” Derek said. “You… seemed familiar to me, but with all that was going on-”

“You couldn’t be sure,” Jackson nodded. “Yeah.”

“Andrew’s annoying little pup,” Derek said, an answer to his unasked question. “A human kid, but it isn’t uncommon for born wolves to manifest in their teens so no one ever questioned it.”

“Andrew?” Jackson probed softly.

“Uncle Andy,” Derek said. “Beta and single father. The alpha’s, my great-aunt’s, only child.”

Jackson closed his eyes. “And my mom?”

“I don’t know,” the alpha shook his head. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” Jackson said. “I don’t… it’s better than what I used to have, at least.”

Derek’s hand came up and pushed aside the fingers that were still rubbing at the scars on Jackson’s neck. “I’m sorry about these.”

Jackson shrugged. “You weren’t totally in control of yourself. I know how it feels,” he smiled. “Now I do, at least.”

Derek huffed and removed his hand. Jackson went after it and ended up leaning against Derek’s arm. The alpha barely twitched.

Jackson had been weirded out at first by the strange compelling nature of the pack bond that had them all touching, and touching often. But something in him said that it was right, that contact between the pack was safe.

“So, second cousins?” Jackson asked.

“No,” Derek corrected. “We’re  _pack_.”

And somehow, though Jackson had been looking for a family since the day he’d found out he was adopted, since even before that… even, because he’d sensed that something was off in his adoptive family and now of course he knew why. Somehow even though he’d been searching for it all this time… the word pack rang truer than anything else. Brother, cousin, uncle… would it have even mattered?

“Alpha,” Jackson acknowledged contently.

Derek’s arm came and wrapped around him. “Beta,” he rumbled.

Jackson relaxed and as he did so he felt Derek relaxing as well and he was struck with the memory that he was the only family Derek had left.

Except, no, they had the pack. They had Lydia and Stiles and even Scott and Allison. Their family wasn’t just the memories a burned house brought, it was there in the romps on weekend meetings, the sound of Stiles’ voice and the twinkle in Lydia’s eyes and the deep laughter that bubbled out of Scott’s throat.

It was in the comfort of his cousin’s arm on his shoulders, the warm heat of his side pressed against Jackson and the soft light of the crescent moon shining down on both of them.


	5. Episode Five - The Slender Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm dealing with my own version of the Slender Man myth, so just roll with it.

Melissa yawned into her hand, shaking her head as if it would help clear away the fog. The hospital was quiet, as quiet as it ever was. She hated the three AM shift, but it paid well and with the amount Scott seemed to eat these days…

Melissa smiled softly at the thought of her son. She peeked her head into the room to her left, absentmindedly making a check on her list as she saw the young girl sleeping peacefully.

The children’s ward of the hospital was always the simultaneously the most somber and the cheeriest wing. Though it was hard to handle the loss of someone so young, the breathtaking sight of a six, seven, eight year old bravely facing x-rays and chemo and surgeries was humbling as anything could be.

Another room checked out and Melissa moved on down her list. She thought back to her son. Something had been off with him recently, but then again she remembered her own teenage years well enough.

She sometimes wondered if it would have been better to have begged  _him_  to stay, but then she saw the amazing young man Scott had grown to be, and she felt right in her decision.  Scott never would have become all he was under  _his_  tutelage.

Besides, Melissa knew that if her son ever got out of line, Stiles was there to lend a hand. Or, occasionally, to help him go over another line, but then again that was the nature of best friends.

Smiling to herself, Melissa opened another door and stopped.

“Excuse me, sir,” she said, quietly enough so as not to wake the other sleeping children. “It’s far past visiting hours.”

It wasn’t uncommon for parents to refuse to go home, but there was no record on her sheet of a stay-in for this room.

The man, or at least she thought it was a man, straightened. Melissa stepped forward, frowning. He, it?, was tall, thin, almost a stick.

A stick that seemed to waver before her eyes. Melissa blinked rapidly and her sight fell upon the bundle in his arms. “Hey!” she cried as she recognized it for the child it was. “Put him down!”

The man moved like a shadow and then suddenly it wasn’t a man anymore. Melissa felt a scream coming up and she reached towards the button to call security to the room.

There was a high pitched cry that echoed along the corridor and Melissa froze. She gasped, trying to move her limbs only to find them as heavy as lead, her body unresponsive.

The creature, for it had to be a creature, moved towards the open window. They were on the third floor, Melissa realized. Was it going to jump?

It would kill the child in its arms!

With a conviction she didn’t even know she possessed, Melissa pushed forward, fingers just lightly brushing the security alarm.

The creature moved like a viper and then Melissa was flying backward against the wall, chocking on nothing as cool fingers slowly strangled her neck. Her wide eyes met burning coals and she kicked out.

The impact to her side barely registered, only that suddenly she was on the other side of the room and she couldn’t feel her right arm.

The last thing Melissa saw before darkness overtook her was the slender creature gliding out the open window, the child still and silent in its arms.

-<-o->-

Scott bunched his hands together, claws digging into his own palms. He barely noticed, knowing they would heal soon. Knowing that, even if they didn’t, he wouldn’t care.

The lacrosse pitch was empty now, the last of the players having escaped back into the locker room. He shouldn’t be here, his emotions were too wound tight.

“ _Coach, just let me skip practice, just another day, please_ ,” Scott had begged.

The coach had shook his head. “ _You’ve missed three days already, McCall. You’re co-captain, now, or should I just let Jackson run the team by himself, seeing as he’s the only one who sees fit to put in the time?_ ”

A month before, Scott would have been enraged, might have even attacked the coach. As it was, Jackson had come into the office and laid a hand on his shoulder and told the coach straight up that Scott was the other captain of the lacrosse team and it would stay that way.

And coach had stared at them both before throwing his hands up in the air. “ _Well then you better make sure he’d on the damn pitch tomorrow_.”

It was only Jackson’s presence, the closeness of a pack member, that had prevented Scott from wolfing out on at least three separate occasions during practice. Jeers of aggression that he would normally brush off now scraped at him like a sore re-opening again and again.

Two more minutes, Scott told himself, then he’d go into the locker room and change and let Jackson drive him to the hospital to visit his mom. Stiles was already there, keeping her company and watching over her, just in case the thing, whatever it was, human or not, that’d attacked her came back.

Once, Scott would have been worried about Stiles hurting himself in the attempt to protect his mom, but Stiles was different now. Calmer. More of a leader. More controlled.

Far more controlled that Scott was now.

There was a click, the snap of a camera, and Scott opened yellow-blazed eyes to take in Matt, fucking Matt. The teen photographer had the nerve to smile cheekily at him.

“Want me to ask God to have it start raining, McCall?” Matt asked. “You look like you could use some extra props for your emo-angst.”

Had Matt never learned about the pack, Scott probably would have walked away and left him alone.

But for the past week and a half Scott had been avoiding his  _mate_  because of this bastard and all the stress, all the anger and hurt and pain at his mom’s current condition burst through him like a volcano eruption.

Matt was on his back under Scott before he could blink. Scott stared down at the suddenly terrified teen, more wolf that human now and growling low. His vision was red, hazed over by rage.

Only the training his Alpha had been putting into him and his pack for the past month stopped him from ripping the human’s throat out right then and there. Instead, he hovered, fangs extended, but no quite willing to take that final step to a kill.

“Scott!”

Scott’s ears, now more pointed and mobile, twitched in the direction of her beautiful voice calling to him.

“Scott, get off him,” his mate called softly. “Please, Scott.”

And Scott couldn’t refuse her that.

As quickly as he could, Scott leaped away from the human, whose breath was still coming in short panicked bursts. He moved his head, eyes landing on Allison where she stood not five yards away.

“No, Allison,” the human was struggling to get up. “Run, quickly!”

“Scott,” Allison murmured, reaching a hand forward. “Calm down, bring it back. Can you do that?”

Scott stepped towards her and took a shuddering breath, shaking as his wolf retreated. He took another step and then grabbed her hand, bringing it to his cheek. “Allison.”

Allison buried her head into his neck and he wrapped his arms tightly around her, unwilling to let her go. “I heard about your mom,” she said. “Let me help you, please Scott. I’ve been so worried!”

Scott stiffed. “Allison, I can’t,” he said. “You… he.”

Allison looked up, and then over his shoulder at Matt. “What?”

Scott turned slightly as Matt got to his feet. “Why didn’t he hurt-” Matt gulped.

“She’s my mate,” Scott growled. “I would  _never_  hurt her. No one in my, our pack would ever bring harm or let harm come to her.”

Matt was still too pale, his hands shivering by his side. “I didn’t…”

“What did you do?” Allison demanded firmly.

“I didn’t know,” Matt looked at the ground. “I’m sorry.”

Allison huffed. “Come on, Scott,” she murmured, grabbing his hand. “Let’s go home.”

-<-o->-

The hospital attendant barely glanced at him when she gave the room number of one Melissa McCall. He thanked her softly and rode the elevator up two floors in silence.

The door to her room was closed but unlocked. He paused outside it, listening for sound, but could hear nothing over the bustle of the nursing staff around him.

They ignored him as if he were not there.

He opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind him.

Melissa McCall lay under off-white hospital sheets, her face pale and her eyes closed. An IV was in her arm, the machine next to her beeping softly to her heartbeat.

There was a clatter and the figure who’d been reading next to her bed looked up at him. “Isaac?”

Isaac blinked at Stiles. “Hey,” he murmured. “How is she doing?”

Stiles stood, coming to approach him. His eyes were soft in the bright hospital light. “She’ll recover,” he said tightly. “What are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to…” Isaac turned to face Stiles fully. “Stiles.”

Stiles stepped closer. “What is it?”

And Isaac knew, just knew that Stiles was wary of him. It was there in the coiled muscles of his arms, in the tense line of his shoulder. But even though Isaac could find no fault in that worry, it hurt.

Isaac leaned forward and grasped Stiles by the side of his face. Before the teen could do anything to stop him, he pressed a soft kiss to Stiles’ lips.

When he pulled back, all the tenseness had leached out of Stiles body and his eyes had turned sad. “I can’t, Isaac,” he said. “I care about you, but…”

“You love someone else,” Isaac finished for him, because he should have suspected as much. “I know. I just wanted you to know… because I told you the rest.”

Stiles licked his lips. “You can tell me anything.”

There was a rattle and then the door opened to reveal a stern male nurse. “Visiting hours are over,” he told them both.

Stiles turned to the man, “I’ve got permission by the hospital’s director…” he began.

Isaac closed his eyes briefly, shaking, and fled.

-<-o->-

“Mr. Harris,” Chris said, standing in the doorway to the science teacher’s classroom.

It was just getting dark outside and it looked as if he’d startled the man grading homework assignments at his desk.

Harris coughed. “Ah, Mr. Argent, is it?”

“I think you know,” Chris murmured.

The teacher’s hands shook, but he made no move to get up from his seat behind his desk. Chris walked to stand in front of it, looming over him.

“Look,” Harris began. “I already told the sheriff all I knew-”

“What did you tell him?” Chris asked. “That you lusted after my sister and, in the manner of a besotted drunk, gave her all the ingredients she needed to commit murder?”

Harris flinched, but his eyes were steady when he looked at Chris straight on. “Yes.”

Chris barely managed not to reel back.

There was a scratch and the sound of an window being pushed open. Chris spun, pointing his gun at the young alpha who stood at the back of the classroom. “Leave him alone,” Derek demanded.

Chris paused. “Why?”

Derek’s eyes flickered, exchanging a look with Harris, who relaxed, relieved, at Chris’ back. Chris wondered just when he’d become the bad guy. “He’s not the only one who was seduced by your sister,” Derek said finally. “Neither I, nor my pack, blame him for the mistake he made. He couldn’t have known.”

“Who else?” Chris lowered his gun, but only just. But he knew, he could see it in the hard drop of the last Hale’s shoulders, could remember it from the diary he’d read. “You were so young.”

Derek flinched, a growl coming as if ripped from his throat.

Chris sighed and locked the safety back on his gun. He kept it ready in his hands, because he wasn’t stupid, but no longer an immediate threat to the wolf. His eyes were assessing as he took in Derek’s prone form. “I doubt you’d killed any at that point in your life.”

Harris was completely silent and Chris let his presence fade slightly to the back of his mind, focusing totally on the new alpha. “I have never killed a human in my life,” Derek stated with hard eyes.

Chris was shocked to realize he wasn’t lying. “No?”

“I might have,” Derek admitted, looking away. “Killed those who’d killed my family, my first pack. It is our nature. But they’re dead now. Regardless, we do not kill innocents.”

Chris shifted, suddenly uncomfortable but not entirely sure why. “I’ve seen-”

“What you’ve seen,” Derek cut him off. “Are rogues, the insane and rage-filled. I’m not here to hurt people. I’m here to teach my pack, my new pack, just how not to do that.”

“And what would happen if one did?” Chris said. “If my hunters were forced to put down one of your pack because they couldn’t control themselves?”

Derek snarled. “My pack won’t, not without due cause, not unless provoked beyond any reasonable intentions. We’ve come that far, our pack bond has grown enough to give them that, young though they are. But make no mistake,  _Hunter_.”

Chris forced himself not to show his disbelieving expression on his face, but judging by Derek’s blue-red eyes, he could smell it off him.

“If you or any of yours hurt my pack,” Derek punctuated his words with underlying growls, the threat in them unmistakably sincere, “then I will suffer no guilt ripping any of you apart.”

Chris had no reply to that and Derek knew it. He settled for a harsh nod and then turned on his heel, sparing Harris one quick glance to find the teacher giving the alpha werewolf a grateful look.

It made his gut churn, but that he ignored.

-<-o->-

Stiles surveyed the pack surrounding him. Scott was radiating anger, only calmed slightly by Allison’s presence at his side. Stiles didn’t quite know what had gone down between the pair this past week, but he was glad to see her now.

Next to him, Derek’s arms were crossed. He too, was obviously angry, but he kept it off his face far better than Scott did. Stiles shifted so that his shoulder brushed against the alpha’s and he could feel the slight amount of tension it relieved.

But hey, some was better than none.

“Okay, so this is what I know,” Stiles said. “Whatever we’re dealing with has a fascination with children. Before the hospital it targeted no adults. We’ve watched over Scott’s mom for days and it hasn’t come back or attempted to attack her, so we can assume it’s uninterested in her.”

Stiles saw Allison take Scott’s hand and mentally he cheered her. Outwardly, though, he continued his schpeal. “Of the children it has taken, it’s kept them for days and by the mortian’s accounts they weren’t abused. Or, at least, the worst they got were some handprint bruises. They were fed, kept clothed, and when it finally,” Stiles paused, bile rising up in his throat as he remembered the pictures he’d found in his dad’s files.

Derek’s arm came to rest lightly on his back and it gave Stiles strength to finish. “When it finally killed them,” Stiles said slowly, “It did so by a clean break of the neck, all four times so far.”

“I thought you said some of them were in pieces,” Scott murmured.

“The,” Stiles breathed through his nose, “ripping occurred after their deaths.”

“How do we know it’s not human?” Allison asked.

Stiles hesitated. “We don’t know for sure, but it’s stolen six children from their homes or in plain daylight with no sightings. Many of those kids knew to scream at the sight of a stranger, and yet there hasn’t been a sign of resistance.”

“It’s possible that it’s a shapeshifter, isn’t it?” Lydia murmured. “If it took the forms of close family members, then the children would have no reason to scream.”

“Possible,” Stiles said. “We’ve got one other big clue, though, and it’s not something I’ve come across in any records of shapeshifters.” He looked around at them all. “It’s been reported by nearly all the parents that the children had been having nightmares for days before they were taken.”

“Nightmares?” Jackson asked and in his pale skin was an answer to one of Stiles’ questions.

“I broke into the school counselor’s office,” Stiles admitted. “And found that, though the kidnapped children apparently had extremely violent nightmares, they are not the only ones that have been affected. It seems a number of kids and even teens our age have been experiencing bad dreams lately.”

Allison bit her bottom lip. “I should go to my family,” she said. “Ask them if they’ve ever heard of anything like this.”

Stiles expected Derek to refuse, but he surprised him by nodding. “Go,” the alpha rumbled. “Call us with what you find out.”

Allison held her head high, a determined glint in her eyes. She turned to Scott, giving him a lasting kiss on the lips, and then jogged to her car.

Stiles thought of his suspicions and only hoped that it wasn’t something worse.

-<-o->-

“The wolves are involved somehow,” Victoria Argent spoke clearly into the dimly lit garage.

Her father-in-law snapped the gun he was cleaning back together with efficient movements. “With the missing children?”

“Yes,” Victoria said, moving closer. “You know they are.”

He had to, for she was certain. She’d been certain those wolves were no good the minute she’d learned of their existence.

Gerard met her gaze squarely. “I have little doubt.”

“What will you do about it?” Victoria asked and there was a sneer in her tone.

“What else can I do,” Gerard stood, planting his feet steadily on the ground. “But put down the vermin?”

Victoria smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. “Good.”

 _Vermin_ , she repeated to herself. Like cockroaches in the kitchen, you had to beat them and beat them until they lay in final death. Of all the supernatural beings in the world, werewolves were the worst infestation.

After all, a creature that looked and could act human for twenty-five days of the moon cycle was dangerous, far more so than the twisted-faced vampires, the glittery winged sprites and pixies, and the hated spawn of the underworld. Werewolves could get close to your family, could plead to you like a  _normal_   _human_  and then once you got close… they took everything from you.

Victoria’s heeled boots clicked as she walked through her house and she found the sound soothing, like the call of wounded beasts in the night.

-<-o->-

It was dark. Katie sniffed, shaking in her bed. It was dark and silent and she wanted to cry.

She couldn’t cry.

Katie coughed loudly, trying to sob, but she couldn’t. Matt, she thought. Big brother would protect her.

He said he would always protect her.

The window creaked, but Katie couldn’t look. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t cry.

“Little one,” a soft voice said.

Katie twitched, trying to escape, and then the hold on her strengthened again and she couldn’t even cry.

-<-o->-

Jackson growled as Scott tackled him in the side. He spun around, claws extended to slash at the other beta.

Scott flipped onto his back and Jackson took advantage of the move to lock his knees around the other were’s legs, trapping him. Scott’s eyes flashed gold and then he surged forward, fangs digging deep into Jackson’s neck for a brief second before Jackson jerked back, ignoring the tearing of his own skin.

He flipped Scott over, elbow planted into ribs to prevent struggling, though struggling came anyway. Blood was beginning to pour down his shirt, but the wound at his neck was already closing up. They were pack, something Jackson had come to realize in this past month, and so he wasn’t actually angry at the violence.

“Calm,” Jackson hissed into Scott’s hair. Scott jerked, nearly head-butting Jackson’s chin.

There was still aggression in Scott’s form, but it was fading. Jackson didn’t blame him for it, any of it, not with his mom still in the hospital, and not as a nurse, and his mate currently in the hunters’ house, regardless of the fact that it was also her own.

Scott twisted so that he was no longer on his stomach. His eyes moved to the wound on Jackson’s neck, but Jackson shook his head to say it was fine.

Sighing, Scott relaxed, arching his head to the side to expose his neck. Jackson gave it a gentle bite, not even breaking skin, before he rolled over just slightly, curling up around the depressed beta.

“Boys,” Lydia said, walking over to them. “Daddy and Momma will be done conversing soon.”

Jackson smirked even as Scott blanched, probably at the idea of Stiles being ‘momma’. “Well they’re not done yet,” he said, reaching forward with his arm. “Come here.”

Lydia rolled her eyes, but she moved easily into his arms, tangling her legs with Scott’s and burrowing her head against Jackson’s chest. Jackson clasped his other arm tightly around her waist, the first still hugging Scott’s shoulders.

“I wish Allison were here,” Scott murmured.

“We know,” Jackson said.

Lydia nodded. “So do we.”

Because, yeah, she was pack too, and though she’d been a bit freaked out by it at first she’d come to accept as much as any of them their rough housing and later their, and Jackson shuddered at this term, cuddling.

The door to the house opened and all three heard the footsteps of their two alphas, Stiles’ just slightly behind Derek’s.

“Pups,” Derek rumbled and Jackson eased his grip, letting the other two betas sit up, and then stand at their alpha’s red-eyed frustration.

“We will catch this thing,” Jackson said, because they had to.

“Right now,” Stiles sighed. “We can’t do anything. We have no leads, only possibilities.”

Jackson growled and he heard Scott answering it besides him. Lydia flipped her hair, but her eyes were bright gold and her teeth were pointed sharp.

“I know,” Derek told them, crouching down to be at their eye level. “I know.”

-<-o->-

Matt woke up feeling as though something was wrong. He sat up in bed, looking towards his open door to see if Katie’d had another nightmare.

The hallway light was off.

Frowning, Matt slipped out of bed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He hadn’t been sleeping well himself lately, but he couldn’t blame his little sister. She was too young; she needed him.

With a stifled yawn, Matt padded to Katie’s room. He paused outside it, wondering why the door was only cracked. She usually kept it fully open.

Matt peered inside, pushing it open just a bit more.

A long shadow  stretched across the room. Matt’s breath caught and then held as he watched the figure silhouetted in the window. In its arms, his little sister stared at him with wide eyes.

“Katie,” Matt whispered haltingly, as if the words had to be forced from his throat.

The figure turned its head in his direction, a faceless mask with glowing eyes like coals. They shone in his mind, those eyes, and Matt forgot for a moment why he had come.

Katie made a startled noise and Matt jerked back to himself, only to blink to an empty room, peaceful in the moonlight.

“Oh God,” Matt collapsed against the door frame, breath suddenly filling his lungs. “Katie!”

-<-o->-

His pack was restless, Derek could tell it in their shifting and feel it in the thrum of the pack bond that moved like a serpent just under his skin. They wanted to strike, to hunt, to kill the menace threatening the children of their city.

Beacon Hill was theirs to protect and they felt as if they were failing.

Besides him, Stiles was tense as if his mind were still racing through the possibilities, cataloguing the most likely and discarding the least. Derek knew his mate was highly intelligent, knew that he was trying, and yet still it was as if the answer was slipping away from them.

The sound of a car rumbled and all of the pack looked in the direction of the dirt driveway leading up to the Hale house. Scott was the first to growl, as if he recognized the scent.

And he might, Derek conceded. He’d certainly grown strong enough to be able to categorize smells correctly.

A figure, a boy, stumbled out of the car. He was shaking, scared to Derek’s sight and smell. Derek shifted slightly in front of Stiles and watched as Scott jumped forward, eyes flashing.

“What are you doing here, Matt?” Scott growled.

“Please,” the teen, Matt, was barely standing. “You have to help me.”

“And why should we?” Scott asked.

Something primal in Scott’s anger spoke of some sort of history. Derek’s eyes narrowed, but he waited for Matt’s answer. Matt gulped audibly. “My sister,” he whispered. “The thing, it took my sister!”

The whole pack stiffened.

Derek stepped forward. “Tell us.”

Matt glanced from Scott to him and then focused his attention on Derek. “I was just going to check up on her, but it already had her. It was… tall, dark, I couldn’t-”

“It’s okay, Matt,” Stiles murmured, surprising Derek. He wondered why he hadn’t noticed his mate come up besides him and then realized it was because he’d grown too used to Stiles’ presence. “What did it look like?”

“Like a man,” Matt said, ignoring the surprised gasps that brought. “But too tall. Really tall, and thin. And it’s face was…” the teen shuddered. “It had no face. Just eyes, glowing eyes.”

“Could you move,” Stiles asked urgently. “Could you move at all when you saw it?”

“Not- no,” Matt shook his head. “I couldn’t do anything, I was just frozen. I couldn’t save her!”

“It’s not your fault,” Stiles laid a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. We’ll get her back. I promise.”

“Stiles?” Derek asked and he paused at Stiles’ steel-eyed look. “What is it?”

Stiles let out a long breath. “The Slender Man.”


	6. Episode Six - Pack

“No, Grandpa!” Allison begged. “You can’t… it’s not what you think!”

“What I think,” Gerard said. “Is that you’ve been fraternizing with a werewolf pack. And this same pack just confessed to you that they are heading to the location of the kidnapped children. What exactly am I supposed to extrapolate from that, girl?”

Allison clenched her hands into fists, tears of frustration coming to her eyes. “That maybe the pack is going to rescue the kids, did you think that?”

“Werewolves are not heroes, Allison,” Gerard sneered. “Go inside, I will handle this.”

“Wait, no!” Allison banged on his car, but Gerard was already starting the engine. He glanced in his mirror at her and then sped off.

Allison stared after him for a moment, completely stunned. That was not the man she remembered, who would bounce his on her knee as a kid. That was a hunter, and a hunter who was now hunting down her pack, her mate.

She had to warn them.

With shaking fingers, Allison dialed Scott’s number. It went to voicemail immediately. She regretted now never asking Stiles for his number. She scrolled through her contacts for Jackson and cursed aloud in frustration when she realized that someone, probably Scott, had deleted his contact information.

A harmless prank, once. Now, it left her with no choice.

Allison ran inside and down to the garage. She grabbed the first knife she saw, unsheathing it briefly to check its quality. Clipping it onto her jeans, Allison slung her bow over her shoulder and checked the sharpness of the arrows in her quiver.

“Allison?”

She froze and slowly turned to look over her shoulder. Her father was standing in the doorway to the main house, watching her with hooded eyes.

“Dad,” Allison greeted. She shifted, knowing there was no way she could hide the bow on her back.

“Where are you going?” Chris asked.

Allison hesitated. Once upon a time, she would have told her dad everything immediately and without hesitation. There relationship had been strained ever since she’d started dating Scott. She missed what they once had.

Maybe by telling the truth, they could get back to that trust. “Scott and the rest of his pack are going to rescue the missing children. Grandfather went after them and I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

Chris sucked in a quick breath and there was a stretch of silence.

Then he strode forward, picking up his crossbow and strapping gun holster to his chest. “Take another knife,” he advised. “You never know when you’ll need a backup.”

Allison grinned and it was as if something inside her had been fixed. Relief washed over her in a wave that she saw echoed in her dad’s eyes. “Right.”

-<-o->-

The pack ranged around the outside Matt’s home, half-shifted as they sniffed out the path the Slender Man had taken.

Lydia inwardly huffed at the name. It was a stupid one, she thought, but then it had been made up in the early 1900s, according to Stiles. A creature that looked like a man, a tall man, who seemed to hover outside playgrounds and parks.

Who could hypnotize its victims and take them without a fight.

Lydia hated the creature, hated it for the fact that it would take children away from their homes and  _test_  them. To see if they were worthy to be in its family. And when they failed, it wouldn’t just return them.

No, it broke their necks and left them for their parents to find.

A growl emerged from Lydia’s lips and she felt her polished nails extent to claws. She let them. She’d never quite felt this angry before. Derek had warned them that they would feel very protective towards their pack and then, on a larger scale, towards the territory they lived in.

The children of Beacon Hill were under their protection. The pack, and Lydia, would rip apart the thing that had hurt them.

“You can come,” Stiles said, speaking to Matt. “But you have to stay back and let us handle everything.”

“I… she’s my sister,” Matt whispered furiously.

“And this isn’t some normal man,” Stiles said. “You knew that, that’s why you came to us. So let the pack get her back and we will return her to you.”

Matt turned his head away and Lydia could smell the desperation he felt. “Why are you helping me?”

Lydia turned on her heel, smiling with fangs as Matt took a step back from her. Stiles didn’t twitch, not even when she put a clawed hand on his shoulder. “Because it is our duty.”

“Because it needs to be done,” Stiles echoed her.

-<-o->-

Stiles parked the jeep silently on the street-side. He saw Derek land and transform into a more human shape, blue eyes glinting in his direction. Nodding, Stiles turned towards his passenger.

“Okay,” he murmured. “You’re staying in the jeep.”

Matt was white in the face and breathing harshly. He was just a kid, Stiles thought, ignoring the fact that they were the same age. Then again, after one murdering menace, another seemed like routine. Matt hadn’t lived through Peter.

Stiles jumped out of his jeep, patting his baby on the side before locking her. Matt continued to sit bunched and after a moment of staring, Stiles let it go, jogging to meet the rest of the pack.

“Which house?” Stiles asked quietly.

Derek turned to him, still half-wolfed but blue-eyed. “That one.”

“Of course,” Stiles muttered. “The end of the street, looks abandoned, probably boarded up windows, that one?”

Lydia huffed and Stiles turned towards Scott’s hunched form, expecting to see his friend’s cocky smile. It wasn’t there.

But of course, Stiles thought, the Slender Man had hurt Scott’s mom. He was ready for retribution.

And, Stiles knew as the pack set out, he would get it.

They were almost to the driveway of that last house on the street when the front door opened and clicked shut quickly. The whole pack froze, Derek stiff next to Stiles, and then the figure who’d exited came under the streetlight and Stiles closed his eyes against the face the light showed.

“Isaac,” Jackson muttered from just behind him.

Isaac looked around the street, hands wringing his shirt. Stiles straightened and then walked purposefully towards him. Derek’s hand on his arm tried to stop him, but Stiles looked back at his mate and slowly, very slowly, Derek let go.

Taking a steadying breath, Stiles came within sight of his new lab partner. Isaac tensed at the sight of him. “Stiles?”

“Hey,” Stiles greeted softly.

Isaac looked around wildly now, as if trying to see who else was there, and then back at the house. “Why are you here?”

“For the children,” Stiles told him.

Isaac flinched and then gave Stiles his full attention. “Is your dad-”

“No,” Stiles said.

Derek took his cue, as Stiles knew he would, and prowled to stand next to Stiles, tall and ferocious-looking in half-wolf form. Isaac drew into himself, obviously frightened, and yet also seeming relieved. “Oh.”

“You were one of them, weren’t you?” Stiles asked, because he knew but he also had to be certain. “You were a kidnapped child.”

Isaac’s eyes darkened and his gaze dropped to the sidewalk between them. “I was,” he said, and even Stiles could hear Scott, or maybe it was Jackson’s, surprised intake of breath.

“Tell me,” Stiles prodded.

Isaac wrapped an arm around his middle and shrugged. “I was young, I don’t even remember my first family. He,  _Father_ …” he stopped, gulping. “I’m too old now, no longer the child he wants.”

“So he’s looking for another,” Stiles nodded. The records disagreed whether there was more than one Slender Man in the world, but most suspected that, one or many, they lived extremely long lives.

And they fed off the semblance of a family. A distorted family. A child’s bond to their abusive parent.

“I’m no longer what he wants,” Isaac said, and his eyes were haunted. “He’s killed… he’s killed so many already and I can’t stop him.”

“We will,” Derek promised from beside Stiles.

Isaac’s eyes moved to the alpha. He hesitated for a moment, a long moment, and then nodded. “He’s in the basement. There’s a new girl… I can distract him enough for you to get in though the outdoor stairs.”

“Thank you,” Stiles said. He wanted to tell the teen that he didn’t have to, that he could wait in the car with Matt. But he knew that Isaac did have to, for himself if nothing else.

Isaac nodded and turned on his heels, heading back into the house. His shoulders were set, but his pace was still uncertain and Stiles prayed his determination would hold through.

-<-o->-

Isaac coughed slightly at the door to signify his presence before he descended into the basement. “Father?”

His father, long backed and slender fingered, glanced towards him. It was stroking the cheek of a terrified girl, her eyes wide as she sat frozen behind the bars of her cage. Isaac swallowed dryly, unable to force himself to look at the other cages that lined the walls, at the other children who might now be dead.

“My son,” his father said, voice as hollow as it always was, seeming to come from the whole room instead of from its mouth.

Isaac couldn’t help the thump of his chest at hearing that his father still considered him a son. Those words came less and less, now that he was older.

Now that he was no longer a child.

“How are you doing tonight, Father?” Isaac asked politely. He wondered how he could get it to come away from the cages and into the larger part of the basement.

His father turned in a smooth motion, letting go of the girl’s cheek. He didn’t move away from her, however. Instead, he tugged a strawberry-blonde curl and smiled beneath glowing eyes. “What do you think of her, my son?”

Isaac’s eyes moved to the girl’s, two cloudy irises colliding like merging thunderstorms. “I don’t know.”

“You would not,” his father stepped back and then moved towards him. “She is to be my new daughter, I believe. Is she not… splendid?”

Isaac stiffened, looking away from his replacement. “I don’t know,” he repeated.

His father hissed, soft in his ear. Hands probed at him, the touch as disinterested as a doctor’s, yet even less caring.

Isaac remembered those earlier years clearly, how his father would rock him as he cried, tongue lapping at his tears as if they were the sweetest nectar. As he grew older and cried less and less it would do more and more to aide him along, to have him become that little child crying in its lap again.

He had not cried in nearly a year.

His father hissed as if it could sense the direction of his thoughts. Its head twitched suddenly, hearing something.

Isaac stepped into its arms, clinging to its chest. “Father,” he murmured. “Why do you need her? Why am I no longer enough?”

His father’s attention snapped back to him in a cold rush. “My child,” it said. With a casual flick of its hand, it scratched at Isaac’s cheek, tracing the same pattern it had followed on the girl’s. Breaking the skin in three strikes of pointed fingers.

Isaac willed tears to come to his eyes as he stared into his father’s blurred face.

His chest felt cold and his fingers loosened as he tried to step back away from this creature. A dry sob racked inside his throat but no tears came.

“Every child must leave the nest,” his father hissed.

There was a growl, low and heady, and then Isaac felt his father’s arm smacking across his chest.

And then he was flying. A hard surface, the wall maybe, hit him hard on the back. He slid down and clasped on the ground.

Isaac groaned, feeling his muscles spasming and then going still. His vision was blurred around the edges and he tried to remember how he’d gotten where he was.

There was the distant sound of a door being slammed open and then Stiles was there, along with four large creatures.

Wolves, Isaac thought, his hold on reality slipping. Stiles was running towards him, mouthing something as the wolves distracted his father.

His father. His father. He could barely even remember his real father.

Isaac coughed weakly, and when he managed to open his eyes again, Stiles was kneeling next to him, a large wolf growling at his side. Isaac opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a croak.

The wolf licked his cheek and then turned around, growling harder at the fight that moved towards the back corner of the basement.

The last thing Isaac saw before the world went dark was Stiles’ eyes tearing up, and his hand tangling into dark fur.

-<-o->-

Gerard waited for the count of twenty before coming around the side of the dark house. He’d tracked the wolves’ movements all the way from that boy’s house, Matt was his name, place and it had led him here.

Opening the door to the garage slowly, Gerard held his gun out in front of him and peered around the corner.

He saw a flash of grey fur, a large werewolf, fully in its bestial form, with its jaws dangerously close to a young human male.

Gerard planted his feet without conscious thought and fired, sure that he only had seconds to save the boy’s life.

The sound of the gunshot cracked through the basement, faint to Gerard’s ears, and he saw with shattering eyes as another human-looking male saw the bullet-

And stepped right into its path.

“NO!” Someone screamed, but Gerard had no idea who as the wolf whirled and roared as if it were a werecat, not a wolf.

Sound disappeared suddenly and so did his power to move. Gerard was frozen, watching that boy bleed out on the floor. Cold fingers grasped his neck and still he stared, fixated.

Horrified.

-<-o->-

Jackson huffed, shaking his denser wolf head. The target had lashed out and knocked him aside. It jumped out of the corner they had backed it into and flew towards a new scent.

Growling, Jackson heard an answering sound from his mate by his side as she shook herself ferally and then his beta packmate on the other.

 _Crack_.

The air snapped with the sound and Jackson flinched, ears pinning back against the noise that deafened him. His packmate was up before him and he saw the male sniffing, gold eyes pinning towards their alpha.

Towards their alpha female. Towards the source of the blood.

Jackson howled in rage, coming back to himself as the two other betas howled with him. He surged forward, leaping on the enemy with a renewed vengeance, clawing, roaring.

The creature jerked back, abandoning the new scent as it whirled to face them. Jackson flinched back from a swipe of its long arms. He gave a bloody wolf’s grin as his mate bit off a finger in the grab.

Their alpha was highly distressed, the pack bond thrumming with anger and hate. Pain. It strengthened the three of them as they harried at the shadowed creature who smelled _wrong_.

This thing would pay.

The bond thrummed urgently, furiously, and Jackson skidded aside as his alpha bowled through the pack towards the creature.

-<-o->-

The Slender Man shrieked at Derek, an inhuman noise that echoed in abnormal red eyes. Derek lunged, snapping his jaws closed around empty air as the creature moved suddenly.

One of his betas yipped and he flattened to avoid the swipe of the creature’s long arm. It was exhilarating, working as a pack. He’d missed this thrill of excitement and mayhem and  _energy_  that echoed off each of them.

In the corner by the wall, his mate groaned.

Derek snarled low, furious at letting his wolf-born thrill of the hunt distract him from the real issue. The scent of the terrified children still filled the air, their wide eyes fixated upon the pack.

Cloth ripped loudly and Derek could feel his beta, Scott’s, savage joy at catching the Slender Man unawares. The alpha took the moment’s distraction to leap forward, paws landing upon solid flesh.

The creature reeled back, stumbling away from him, and was barreled into by Jackson and Lydia. It went down in utter silence and chill spread across the basement.

Derek’s ears twitched as suddenly the room was encased in total silence. He took a step forward, shaking his head, and tried to smell the air. Thick smoky tendrils caressed his nose and yet he could detect nothing. His sight was collapsing, the darkness no longer see through for his werewolf eyes.

He was alone in the dark space.

 _Twang_.

 _Snap_.

Derek came back to himself in a rush of sensation, overloading him briefly until his sensitive eyes found another pack member. Allison stood with her bow drawn, her stance determined.

The Slender Man’s face flickered before their eyes and it clutched long fingers to smoke emitting from itself, shrieking. This had gone on long enough, Derek thought, as his betas hurled themselves at the creature. It fell to the ground and Derek set a heavy paw on its chest.

“What are they doing?” the hunter, Chris, Derek thought faintly, was moving behind Allison. The alpha wondered if he would be a threat.

The soft bond he had with his mate  _moved_  under his skin and Derek’s heartbeat raced. He looked down at the faceless visage of the thing that had threatened his territory. Derek snarled.

Teeth easily sunk into shadowy flesh. Derek’s muscles clenched and he ripped his head away, tearing out half of the Slender Man’s neck. His pack howled their victory around him and Derek took a step back, away, as the rest of the creature’s body dissolved into a black puddle. His tongue tasted like tar in his mouth, but he couldn’t care at that moment.

The alpha closed his eyes, panting, and pulled at the pack bond, forcing them all to change into human form. He heard the cracking of muscles as his betas did, but he was already moving, half-wolf and then fully human, to Stiles’ side.

Derek whimpered by his mate. Stiles’ eyes were soft, hazed and unseeing, as he clutched the wound in his side. Only the soft intake of breath was an indication that he was still alive. “Mate,” Derek murmured. “Stiles.” He looked over to his pack and growled. “Call Deaton!”

“No need,” came a voice from the doorway. The warlock stepped in. “I am already here, Alpha.”

Deaton stepped fully into the room, dressed in traditional warlock robes. Trailing behind him, Matt blanched as he took in the wreckage.

“How?” Jackson asked faintly.

“You called to me when your alpha female was injured,” Deaton said to the whole pack. “I came as fast as I could.”

“Please, help him,” Derek murmured. “You must help him.”

“I will,” Deaton reassured him, kneeling by Stiles’ side. He pulled out his supplies. “But you need to help, young alpha. Feel your bond with him and hold onto it, keep him here in this plane or I will not be able to save him.”

Derek registered Matt saying something to his terrified sister, and then to the other children. His pack was frightened and angry across the basement, the Argent family confused.

Derek nodded and closed his eyes, laying a hand on his mate’s neck.

-<-o->-

Scott whirled on Gerard Argent, already halfway back to wolf form as he growled. “You. You shot Stiles.”

Gerard flinched back, still on the floor where the Slender Man had thrown him away after attempting to strangle him. Scott could smell the weakness of his bones, hear from the cracking that his wrist had been fractured. He wouldn’t be shooting his death weapon any time soon. “He… the boy.”

“You think that our alpha would hurt-” Lydia cut herself off angrily. “We came in just after that  _thing_  had hurled Isaac away. Isaac is Stiles’ friend.”

“He’s our friend,” Jackson added. “He’s our teammate.”

“If Stiles dies,” Scott stepped forward, fur extending past his hair and claws coming out. His eyes flashed.

“Scott,” Allison murmured, stepped forward around the arm her father had held out in protection. She walked right up to Scott before the other Argents could protest and placed a hand on his chest. “Doctor Deaton will save him. And Derek. You know Derek won’t let him die.”

Scott wavered, still glaring at Gerard. After a moment, though, he nodded once, jerkily, and settled back, wrapping his arms around Allison’s waist and pulling her closer. He buried his head into her neck and let her hold him up as weakness at the possibility of loosing his best friend hit his knees.

Jackson and Lydia moved in his peripheral vision, coming up closer to them. Lydia put a hand on Allison’s arm and Jackson reached over Scott’s shoulder.

“Allison,” Chris murmured.

“Go,” Allison said, turning her head slightly to look at her father and grandfather. “Take Grandfather and go.”

She looked away from them before they moved and Scott let her herd the whole pack towards where Stiles was being treated.

Deaton sat back on his heels after a moment and glanced over at Scott. “He’ll be fine,” he said. “We just need to get him to a hospital for some more professional help. I could only patch up the worst of his wound, it would take too much of my energy to heal him fully, but he’ll survive now.”

“Thank you,” Scott told his boss, throat closed. “Thank you so much.”

“No, Scott,” Deaton smiled. “It is I who should be thanking you.” He looked over the assembled pack. “All of you. You are Beacon Hill’s pack. Never before have I seen werewolves come together to protect their territory so quickly, and so admirably. I am happy to be of service.”

Scott nodded, the rest of his pack around him relaxing into one comforted pile as they watched their two alpha’s breathing together next to the still form of Isaac.

“Will he be okay?” Matt asked from behind them.

Scott turned. “Stiles will be fine.”

“No,” Matt shook his head. “I heard that. I mean the other one.”

Derek opened his eyes, taking his hand off of Stiles’. He looked tired, but determined as he looked from his mate to the other male. “No,” he said. “I can feel him dying. His smell his fading.”

Deaton stood. “And what shall you do about that, Alpha?”

“Can you…?” Derek stopped as Deaton shook his head. He looked back at Stiles’ still unconscious face and sighed. “I will save him.”

“You’ll bite him,” Jackson stated.

Derek answered in the fangs that descended from behind his lips and the flash of red, then blue in his eyes.

-<-o->-

The beep of the heart monitor was a familiar noise. Stiles groaned at that thought, struggling to wake up fully. Obviously he’d been in hospitals too often lately.

“Stiles?”

Stiles blinked his eyes open, bleary vision focusing on his dad. “Hey,” he tried for a grin, only to have it turn into a grimace. “What…”

“You were shot,” his dad’s face was pale. “What were you doing, going after that man? Stiles, you’re not…”

Stiles paused, not liking the anger and fear that spun in his dad’s tired eyes. “I…” he didn’t know what the pack had told the sheriff and he didn’t want to mess up their story, but he also didn’t want to lie to his only parent. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

The sheriff’s shoulders slumped. “I know, son,” he murmured. “That doesn’t mean you’re not grounded, you understand?”

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded.

His dad gave him a small smile and then looked towards the door. “I’m betting your friends will want to know your awake.”

“Dad,” Stiles stopped him as the sheriff stood. “You know I love you right. You’re the best dad-” he choked on his words, thinking of the Slender Man and the children in the garage, lying like rag dolls on the ground.

His dad leaned down and gave him a soft kiss on the forehead, a gesture his mom would have done, once upon a time.

Five minutes later, as his room was invaded by the pack, Stiles was still smiling.

“This is a turn around,” Lydia said, sitting on the edge of his bed. Jackson stood behind her and Scott walked as if to go right to his side, only to pause and let Derek take that spot.

“How are you feeling?” Scott asked.

Stiles shrugged, and then regretted the move immediately. “Been better.” He looked around. “Is anyone else hurt?”

Jackson shook his head, but it was Derek that answered. “All the children have been returned to their parents.”

“And what did you tell my dad?” Stiles asked.

“Isaac called us to his house because he heard strange noises from his basement,” Lydia popped her gum. “We all came over, because he is our friend,” at Stiles’ raised eyebrow she smiled, “and we found his father with the kidnapped children. His father had a gun, he shot you, and then Allison’s dad and grandfather came, because she’d called them, and Mr. Argent slit his throat.”

“But, I thought,” Stiles looked at Derek in confusion. He’d been barely conscious at that point, but he could have sworn it was Derek, not Chris.

“Allison’s dad thought that it would better if he was the one who’d killed the… man,” Scott murmured. “Not Derek.”

“Oh,” Stiles breathed out. “And Isaac?”

“He was dying,” Jackson said, putting a hand on Lydia’s shoulder.

Stiles stiffened and Derek huffed. “I gave him the bite,” he said. “He’s one of the pack now, and we’ll take care of him.”

“He’s old enough to argue for emancipation in the courts,” Lydia said. “We’ll be a better family for him than that creature.”

“Yeah,” Stiles said. “Yeah, good.”

Derek’s eyes burned warmly and Stiles wanted nothing more, in that moment, than to have his mate curl up around him. But they were in a hospital and that wouldn’t be taken well.

With a soft breath, Stiles leaned back, closing his eyes. “Good,” he repeated, the lull of the heart monitor and the presence of his pack helping him drift back to sleep.

-<-o->-

“You’re leaving,” Chris stated.

Gerard zipped up his bag, nodding even though it wasn’t a question. “There is no more reason for me to stay.”

Chris let out a heavy sigh. “Father…”

“I came here to seek retribution for the death of my only daughter,” Gerard said, straight-backed and with a tired cadence to his voice.

In that moment was the first time Chris had ever thought of his father as  _old_. And yet, suddenly, he was. “Retribution was not yours to find.”

“No,” Gerard sat back on the bed. “Still… she was not the one who killed those people several months ago.”

“But she was the catalyst,” Chris said and as much as it hurt to say, as much as he thought it would always hurt, it was becoming easier to admit. To own.

Gerard said nothing for a moment, staring at his hands. Finally he looked up. “Where did I go wrong?”

Chris wanted to say something, to reassure his father. Nothing came to mind. It would never be so Instead, he flipped the book in his hand and tossed it over. Gerard caught it easily. “Maybe you can find your answers there.”

“Kate’s journal?” Gerard murmured, thumbing through the first couple of pages. “How…”

“Have a safe trip,” Chris told him.

Gerard stood before Chris could leave. He reached forward, hesitant, and drew Chris into his arm, holding him tightly. “I’ve already lost one child, I can’t lose you too.”

“You won’t,” Chris said, voice rough. “I’ll call, I promise.”

Gerard pulled back, eyes suspiciously wet. He cleared his throat. “Good.”

-<-o->-

“No, no pict’res,” Katie giggled, twirling around to hide her face behind her hands.

Matt lowered the camera smiling. It was so amazing how easily kids adapted to change, he thought. Only a month after she’d been taken as she was already laughing at him. If she insisted on sleeping in his room most nights, well Matt figured that he could manage.

He certainly felt as if he owed her that. After all, he was the one who’d blackmailed the… the wolf pack. And who would have saved her if they hadn’t agreed to help?

Matt’s fingers itched and he set the camera aside. “Hey Katie, you wanna go to a party?”

“Birthday party?” Katie asked, exited.

“No,” Matt shook his head. “A celebration.”

Katie scrunched up her face. “Cake n’ iced-creen?”

“Yeah,” Matt chuckled, “there’ll be cake and ice cream.”

Katie clapped her hands, nodding eagerly. Matt hummed, mind wandering to the email he’d received in invitation. It seemed as though Stiles was finally completely recovered and had decided to throw a party.

Matt wondered if it was truly Stiles idea, but then again he supposed it didn’t matter. He hoped he could finally get the chance to fully give his thanks and apologies tonight to the pack, and maybe introduce Katie to her saviors.

“Yeah,” he said aloud. Katie looked at him curiously. “That’s the plan.”

-<-o->-

Danny nodded to Stiles in the distance, glad to see his teammate out of his cast. Stiles weaved his way over through the crowd of partygoers, waving. “Danny!” he yelled. “How are you?”

“I’m good, Stiles,” Danny smiled. “You’re all better I see.”

“Still on morphine though,” Stiles giggled. “Don’t tell my dad.”

Danny almost raised an eyebrow, but then he saw the twinkling in Stiles’ eyes and he shook his head. “You nearly had me buying that once.”

Stiles smiled, sobering slightly. “How’s your boyfriend?”

“Good,” Danny licked his lips. “And yours?”

Stiles’ cheeks flushed. “Who knows?”

“Stiles.” Speak of the devil, Danny thought as Migu- Derek walked up. “Scott was asking for you.”

“Why am I playing host?” Stiles asked, letting Derek pull him away.

Danny watched them, noting how Stiles leaned close to Derek, and how Derek didn’t let go of his shoulder even when he no longer needed to be holding on. Yeah, he figured that if it hadn’t happened yet… it’d be soon for those two.

Laughter sounded to Danny’s right and he turned, somewhat stunned to see Isaac as the source. He was talking to Jackson and Lydia, shaking his head in amusement.

Jackson looked over as if he could feel Danny’s gaze and smiled, beckoning him over. Danny hesitated, eyes moving over Jackson’s arm around Lydia’s petite waist, and then to Isaac again. For some reason, it felt almost as if he was intruding if he were to join their conversation.

But no, Danny reminded himself. That was silly. And besides, he was glad that Isaac had made friends. Stiles, Scott, Allison, Jackson, and Lydia… maybe even Derek.

And who knew, maybe Danny would join them. Looking at the ease with which the three in front of him interacted, he didn’t think he’d mind.

-<-o->-

Melissa tucked a curl behind her ear, holding her iced tea close. The weather was warming up, a summer breeze coming to tickle around her neck and cheeks.

“Melissa,” Sheriff Stilinksi voice drifted to meet her. “Glad to see you on your feet.”

She turned and smiled at him. “You’re looking good, Sheriff.”

He laughed, waving at his soft blue button down. “Not on duty tonight,” the man shrugged. “I told Stiles that I would look the other way so long as he and his friends didn’t get too rowdy. Figured it’d be better that they celebrate under my watch than not.”

“Can’t argue with that logic,” Melissa nodded. “Off duty certainly seems to fall well on your shoulders.” And it did. The sheriff looked at ease, relaxed in a way that he hadn’t been the last Melissa had seen him, when they were both rushing to the hospital after receiving calls that their children had found the missing kids.

“You are the one that looks beautiful tonight,” the sheriff murmured. He smiled suddenly. “Then again, you always do.”

Melissa felt her cheeks flush slightly and her heart skipped a beat. “Flatterer.”

“Only when it matters,” he countered, and his eyes seemed to add,  _and you do_.

She paused, hesitating over decade-long hurts. But then again, they both were scarred, weren’t they? “Escort me to the snack table, would you? We should make sure no one has spiked the punch.”

He laughed and held out his arm for her. “Of course.”

-<-o->-

Derek surveyed the partiers, sniffing the air to check for any signs of alcohol. He’d told the pack not to get him in trouble. They were on his private property, after all, and he was already on shaky ground with the sheriff.

He’d be on even shakier ground if Stiles’ dad knew the whole truth, but that was a something to muse over later.

Thinking of Stiles had him thinking of Isaac and he turned his eyes on the new beta. He’d been prepared to hate the teen, even when he’d bitten him. Stiles was his mate, but not in all the ways that mattered. And it seemed what mattered to Stiles was Isaac.

Still, Isaac wasn’t… awful. If anything, he listened better than anyone else in Derek’s pack and he was ever eager to please. To belong.

Derek bet that he could tell the beta to stay away from Stiles and he would, if only to keep the pack bond… but Derek would never do that. Not only was Stiles an intrinsic member of the pack, making it hard for Isaac to say away from him, Derek also couldn’t stand to think of how much that would hurt his mate.

Derek turned suddenly as two hunters approached him. He waited until they were close, before meeting their eyes. Derek looked at the female Argent, and then at her husband. Chris, he reminded himself.

“Alpha Derek,” Chris greeted.

Good manners warred with the instinct to growl. Derek settled on nodding.

“We were just heading out,” Chris murmured. “But we had a question before we left.”

“If I can answer it…” Derek trailed off.

Victoria Argent frowned. “It is about our daughter.”

“Allison is one of ours,” Derek said, firmly, because she was. “She is pack.”

Victoria’s frown deepened, but understanding showed in Chris’ eyes. “Then I will trust you to watch over her,” he murmured, low but audible to Derek’s ears.

Derek nodded, a promise he intended to keep, and Chris smiled.

They left soon after and Derek overheard Chris telling Scott to make sure she got home safe. He was proud of his beta for accepting the command calmly, even including an invitation to come dine at his house with his mom the next weekend.

Scott really was maturing, but then again, they all were. Derek looked up, staring at the half-moon in the sky and smiled.

-<-o->-

Stiles looked up in the sky, the party a soft murmur of voices from his distance. He knew he wouldn’t have to wait long until Derek came.

He hadn’t gotten a moment alone with Derek since the alpha confessed to having bit Isaac and there were things that needed saying between them.

Misunderstandings to clear up.

There was a rustle and then a large wolf circled Stiles. Stiles smiled at him. “Derek.”

Derek stopped in front of Stiles and shifted slowly into a fully human form. “Not enjoying your own party?”

“It’s not just mine,” Stiles countered. “I’m not the only one who’s been to recovering.”

There was silence and though Stiles had been thinking of Scott’s mom, he wasn’t surprised when Derek took his statement in another direction.

“Isaac is doing better,” Derek said after a moment. “He’s learning control surprisingly fast.”

“Not surprisingly,” Stiles countered. “He lived with the Slender Man, at that creature’s mercy for nearly his entire life, didn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Derek agreed. He met Stiles’ gaze and then dropped it. “I don’t know if it’s possible… if two wolves can find mates in the same person, but even if he doesn’t, I want you to know that I won’t get between-”

Stiles reached forward, thinking of no other way to shut up the alpha than to kiss those rough lips. Derek stiffened under his probing touch, and then he returned with fervor.

Gasping, Stiles pulled himself closer to Derek’s body, loving the feel of the were’s warm palms on his back and waist. Derek’s mouth was  _claiming_  him, devouring him and consuming him, and then, gently, far more gently than Stiles might have imagined, giving it all back.

Stiles broke away, gasping. His chest heaved against Derek’s and he rested his forehead against Derek’s shoulder, arching his head to give Derek access to his neck if the alpha wanted it.

Derek bent down slightly and gently tugged at Stiles’ jugular vein, just a light scraping of teeth, before he pulled back. “Stiles.”

There was wonder in his tone and it shattered something in Stiles, only to have those torn pieces be mended in an instant as Derek’s hand rested on his cheek and pushing Stiles’ face up for another kiss.

“Only you,” Stiles murmured into his lips. “Isaac is… a friend, he’s pack, but you are my mate.”

“My mate,” Derek breathed in agreement. “Always.”

Stiles smiled brightly and saw the answering grin in Derek’s eyes. Together, united in front of their pack, they would be strong. But in this moment, with just the two of them, they were both vulnerable to each other.

And loved by one another.

That, Stiles decided, despite anything they might face in the future, would be what he would remember and cherish, because he knew now the combination to that safe around Derek’s heart and Derek knew the path into his own.

A howl rang true into the sky, a wolf gone too crazy in the woods, perhaps, and they both sighed. “Work to do,” Stiles muttered. “Puppies to berate and people to scare.”

Derek’s soft chuckle echoed in the trees around them as they walked together back to the party.


End file.
